GateWars: ShadowFire
by Darth Rane
Summary: The story arc continues. Alana adjusts to life living in the "light", after years of apprenticeship to Darth Soruto. Meanwhile, an unknown threat from the home galaxy of SG-1 plans galactic domination...
1. Second Chances

Edit: Minor alterations about the span of time were made. Nothing drastic. x3 No need to reread if you already have, lol.

**Forward: You've waited I don't know how long, I'm too lazy to count, but here it is! The sequel to the original GateWars! We bring in SG-1 a bit (which is a lot more than the first one), and I promise you, the ultimate payout for all you Stargate fans out there will be AMAZING.**

**And I'm going to say this right now: This has the foreshadowing and sets the scene for the last installment in the GateWars story arc. The action will come in part three, the end of the trilogy, and it will be so intense that you will have to strap yourselves into your desk chair because it's that EPIC. :D My friend and I are SUPER EXCITED to begin it.**

**Just hang in there, and you won't be disappointed. ;) So without further a'do, I give you…SHADOWFIRE!**

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><p><strong>Aurora<strong>: The digital clock resting on one of the bedside table chimed loudly as the glowing red numbers changed from 7:59 to 8:00. Aurora groaned and slammed her scaled hand on the snooze button. Then, with a curse muttered under her breath, she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

She'd had the nightmares again last night, the same ones she had every time she went to sleep. She woke screaming at midnight, and the amount of rest she lost showed in the dark circles under her eyes and the weary, lethargic way in which she moved through her days.

As she did every morning, she remembered the promise she had made herself that night nearly a year and a half ago when she had shown Alana the stars. While she lay there on that hospital gurney, listening to the beeping of instruments monitoring her vitals, she had made a realization. She had to be strong. Not only for herself, but for her sister. No matter how many nightmares she had of being in captivity again.

However, it was a struggle to remember this vow. Soruto was still out there. He could still find her if he wanted to.

Aurora flipped the light switch and blinked a few times as artificial light flooded her temporary quarters. She hastily straightened her twisted sheets and pulled the covers up to the pillows, leaving no evidence of her tormented sleep behind. Then she exchanged her sweaty nightclothes for baggy green pants, a pair of heavy army boots, and a close fitting black shirt with three-quarter sleeves and a low back that allowed her pale green wings full range of movement. Aurora then gathered her long black hair in a sloppy bun at the nape of her neck and tucked the run away strands behind her slim, pointed ears.

Once ready, she exited the room and headed toward the mess hall for breakfast. As she walked through the concrete corridors, a few SGC personnel called out greetings to her, which she promptly responded to with a warm smile and a greeting in return. No one stared at her anymore, as she had been a guest of their facility for a year. She almost felt that this was home. The only intrusion was her longing to return to where she belonged. _Sofera_.

She could barely remember the life there: the dark, imposing mountains, the thick jungle, the glistening lake by which she and her family had spent many a happy day. Of course, with all of the fond memories came all the dark ones. The city falling, burning, smoke and ash filling her nostrils. Explosions all around, screams penetrating the air, buildings crumbling under fire….

_No!_ Living in the past served no purpose. It was the past for a reason. Aurora pushed away the memories just as she entered the mess hall.

After grabbing a bowl of a colorless, warm mush-oatmeal, they called it here on Earth-she approached the table at which her Tau'ri friends sat. The name _Tau'ri_ was the ancient planetary name that the Earthlings held among their galaxy, because of their planet's ancient name, Terra. Doctor Daniel Jackson was excitedly telling Colonel Samantha Carter about something that had to do with a connection between the ancient civilizations of Earth and some planet SG-1 had traveled to recently. Carter was pretending to be interested in what he was saying while Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell discussed battle tactics with the Jaffa warrior, Teal'c. Both conversations stopped as Aurora slid into the seat next to Carter.

"Good morning, everyone," Aurora said cheerfully, before spooning a glob of oatmeal into her mouth.

"Morning."

"Morning."

"Good morning, Aurora."

Teal'c remained silent, as was his habit, but inclined his head and lifted the corners of his mouth a fraction of a millimeter in some semblance of a smile. For him, it was equal to a huge grin and a cheerful 'Good morning!'

"You guys going somewhere today?" Aurora asked. Carter opened her mouth to answer when she was suddenly cut off by a siren and flashing lights, followed by a message over the intercom.

"UNSCHEDULED OFF WORLD ACTIVATION!"

Immediately, the room erupted in activity, everyone rushing to their battle stations. SG-1 was on their feet in a heartbeat. Aurora rose halfway out of her seat, but Cameron placed a hand on her shoulder, forcing her back into her chair.

"No, stay here. You'll just be in the way."

The room quickly drained of all human life, and she was alone. Aurora sighed and hunched over her breakfast, spoon in hand. She toyed with the unpleasant-looking mush, but did not eat.

At least in a few days, she would be on her way to Coruscant. The Tau'ri would be sending some people to learn about the customs and the technology of the New Republic, and to negotiate the terms of their alliance. Aurora wouldn't be in the way there. And she could see her sister again. After so many years, she couldn't bear to be far from Alana's side for long periods of time. Even a year seemed to be too much time since she had last seen the Ice Soferian.

A few moments later, as Aurora finished her last spoonful of oatmeal-which turned out to be quite tasty, when heaped with piles of a crumbly substance called "brown sugar"-the sirens and warning lights abruptly shut off. Slowly, people began filtering back into the cafeteria. Their attitudes were relaxed and casual. It seemed their had been no unwelcome visit from off world hostiles, as she'd started to believe. Curious, Aurora stepped overt to one of the soldiers and asked, "Who was it?"

The soldier gave her a cursory glance, his eyes hesitating for less than a heartbeat on her wings. The people of Cheyenne Mountain might be used to her presence, but the wings were still somewhat of a novelty. "It was the Tok'ra, sending their representatives through. Mr. Carter and some other girl." The soldier grimaced and muttered under his breath as he walked away. "Making us get up in the middle of breakfast simply because they wanted to come early…"

Aurora frowned, then sighed again and slumped resignedly back into her chair. Only a few more days.

**Madiyah**: Madiyah stepped through the stargate, sending ripples through the blue event horizon. What she stepped into was not entirely unexpected.

The large, cavernous room was made of large blocks of stone, this concrete that the Tau'ri made most of their cities with. Pipes ran along the walls, and steam issued from machines attached to the gate itself, presumably to keep the walls from shaking as the gate activated. Madiyah glanced disparagingly at their rudimentary technology.

_"Do not underestimate the Tau'ri, child. What they lack in technology and knowledge, they make up for with their courage and cunning. They care for each other almost better than we do._"

"_Yes, Nimrel_," Madiyah thought, chagrined. Though she did add, "_But I'm no child_." Nimrel chuckled in response.

That was the connection between host and symbiote. In a mutual, symbiotic relationship, Madiyah shared her thoughts and body with Nimrel, the serpentine creature that lived wrapped around her spinal cord and attached to her brain stem. Though of the same species, the Tok'ra were not the same as the Goa'uld. The Tok'ra sought only for the freedom and mobility that a human body could provide, and did so peacefully, not forcing themselves on humans that did not wish to be hosts. The Goa'uld, however, sought power, and gained it by pretending to be gods. Madiyah much preferred the Tok'ra way of living.

Even though Madiyah had to make sacrifices, she also gained in return. Nimrel provided accelerated healing, long life, and the knowledge and wisdom of a being that was six hundred and forty-seven years old. Nimrel was always respectful of Madiyah's thoughts and did not intrude or disregard her boundaries. It was like having two personalities in one body, and all in all, Madiyah liked it.

When she had been young, the Goa'uld had attacked her village for harboring a Tok'ra spy. The entire village population had either fled or been killed. Sadly, her family had been among the victims; two brothers, a mother, a father, a grandmother.

Madiyah did not remember much of that day, as she had only been about 3 years old. However, she did remember her mother hiding her in a basket of laundry when all hope of escape had vanished. She remembered the horror of seeing her mother fall to the ground, lifeless eyes staring, and she remembered the relief of being found by the Tok'ra reinforcements sent to protect the village.

Madiyah had had no family left to care for her, so the Tok'ra had taken her under their wing, teaching her of their ways. Madiyah had grown up accustomed to the idea of the symbiotic relationship she now shared, and had looked forward to the day in which she would receive her symbiote. When Nimrel's previous host, a woman of 105 years gave her blessing as her body failed, Madiyah had been selected at 21 years of age to be Nimrel's new host. After two years, she had no regrets.

Madiyah stepped up beside her mentors, Jacob Carter, who was host to Selmac, the oldest and wisest of the Tok'ra. Jacob had come from this world, and he was father to one of the officers of this facility. With his experiences with the Tau'ri, he held important knowledge of the culture of Terra, or rather, Earth, as they called it. While Nimrel would be her teacher in many things, it would be Jacob who taught her of the Tau'ri. Because of her young age, it was thought that Madiyah would be the most receptive to the knowledge that Jacob would impart, so therefore, she had been chosen to be mentored by him and to follow on this journey where Jacob would act as ambassador for the Tok'ra. Madiyah felt honored to be placed in such a role of importance.

Madiyah and Jacob both wore the sand colored tunic and breeches of the Tok'ra, but apart from that, they were as different as any two people could be. Jacob was short, but well muscled while Madiyah was tall and lanky, topping him by at least a few inches. Madiyah's facial features included high cheekbones, a slightly bold nose, soft gray eyes, and a rosy complexion, all of which spoke of youth. Jacob's features included a crooked nose from being broken and not properly mended, twinkling dark brown eyes that held not only wisdom, but mischief, and fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth, all pointing toward age. Madiyah's honey-blond hair fell to her shoulders, it's top layer pulled back over her ears in two tiny braids that connected in the back to keep it out of her face, and her bangs reached her eyebrows, just barely short enough to stay out of her eyes. Jacob's neatly combed hair was thin and silver, balding in the back of his head.

Multiple Tau'ri soldiers surrounded the ramp leading from the Stargate, their firearms aimed at them. Their faces were stoic, positions unwavering. They were obviously trained and ready to deal with any unwelcome visitors. A small cannon-like contraption was even positioned at the base of the ramp.

A window set high in the wall gave Madiyah a view of the rooms beyond. There, a man who looked to be of great importance stood, watching the pair emerge from the gate. Beside him stood four people, two men, a Jaffa, and a woman. Madiyah recognized the group from the descriptions Jacob had given her and realized that they were the fabled SG-1, whom she had heard about but never met.

The gate deactivated behind the pair. The soldiers were ordered to stand down through use of some sort of speaker system, and a few minutes later, Jacob was speaking casually to the important-looking-man, who was soon introduced to be General Landrey. SG-1 also came to greet the pair, and soon enough, Jacob and Colonel Samantha Carter were hugging and smiling, as only parent and child could.

Madiyah was introduced, and Jacob apologized for being early. The two of them...Well, the four of them, actually, had been ready, and saw no reason to put off their departure until the next day. General Landrey told him there was no need for an apology.

Within a short time, Madiyah was alone in her temporary quarters, sitting on the edge of the bed. She lay down and smiled at the ceiling.

Her mission had begun.

**Alana**: The room was dark. It was _always_ dark, anymore. She hated the dark.

For too many years of her life had she lived in darkness, cloaked in an ebony shroud. Surrounded by the endless expanse of space, with a soul as cold and black as the vacuum through which the dark fleet swiftly glided. How ironic was it that, even though she was thought to be free from the evil that had held her prisoner for so long, her world remained dark from blindness? Trade one in, and get the other in return.

That's how everyone else around her saw it. They pitied her; she could sense it. As she passed them in the halls, their sympathy washed over her in waves, carrying her along a dizzying tide of benevolence. The feelings were so strong that, at times, she felt sick. Sea-sick. Ugh.

She hated their pity as much as she hated the dark; more so, in fact. It was even worse when a random stranger (out of the goodness of their untainted hearts) waltzed up and offered her their assistance, thinking a blind person might need it. They were just trying to help, she knew, but it was all she could do to keep from tearing their throats out with her teeth right then and there, so strong was her emotion.

Why did they even _bother_ to pity her? She didn't deserve it. Deep in her stony heart, she knew she didn't deserve their kind (and incredibly annoying) feelings. The death penalty that _should_ have been hers (and would have been, were it not for her sister) had been belayed. They all believed she was good, that she could change from her evil ways. They believed that the change was already happening inside her, and with each passing day, she grew closer towards the light side of the Force. But oh, how wrong they were.

In reality, she had been divided in two. When her sister had revealed herself for the first time, bringing with her a torrent of memories that had been locked away for so long, only part of Alana had been redeemed. Pulled into the light. Made to regret her mistakes. The other half had remained in the darkness, a remnant of the Sith she had been before. The two halves of her split mind warred constantly for control over her, and their battles had all but driven her insane. The duality of her soul made a normal existence impossible. And there was nothing she could do about it.

It was a normal day on Coruscant, similar to all the rest that made up Alana's miserable new life. As she was leaving her assigned quarters in the residential wing of the former Imperial Palace (though the death penalty had been dropped, she was still kept close to watching eyes), a familiar presence approached her. It was a young medic who worked in the Senate's state-of-the-art medical center (and had also been among the personnel aboard the Mon Calamari starship during the Earth Incident). This eager, youthful doctor had been on the team that helped to treat the injured Soferian sisters after the battle. And ever since Alana's return to the New Republic, this medic had taken it upon herself to act as Alana's guardian (whenever Skywalker was not around). The doctor found her way to Alana through the crowded hallways of the Palace.

"Hello, Alana!" she said brightly. The Soferian ground her teeth.

Why did Republic citizens always have to be so…happy? She'd grown up around stoic, emotionless humans. She'd never seen them smile. Were they so different from their light-side counterparts? It really bothered her now, being around these perpetually upbeat creatures. Their bright personalities suited Aurora, more than Alana.

Maybe that was it….they thought that the twins were identical in every aspect. Just because the sisters _looked_ the same meant that they acted the same, too. This dark cloud of anger that hung over Alana's head was just a phase. Natural, considering what she had gone through, but just a phase that would pass. Soon, she would be as bright and friendly as her sister.

"Good morning, Doctor," Alana said in a flat voice, suppressing the urge to tear the doctor's head from her shoulders.

"And how are you feeling today?" the medic wondered, falling into step beside the Ice Soferian.

_I hate you all_. "I'm feeling alright." Alana answered in the same emotionless tone.

"That's good," The doctor fell silent, and they walked a few steps with only the sound of booted feet on carpeted floor. Alana thought her tag-along had shut up for good, but was sadly mistaken. "So, where are you headed?"

Not only were the Republic citizens brilliant rays of blinding sunshine, but they were also quite nosey. And far too helpful. Alana saw where this question was going instantly. "Master Skywalker has requested my presence in the gym." She told the doctor, impatience creeping into her voice.

"Really? Have you been there before?"

"No."

"Well, the gym can be hard to find if you don't know where you're going. Would you like some assista-"

"No." Alana snapped, her tone scathing. "I _do not_ need your assistance. I am fully capable of finding my way there _without_ your help."

The doctor seemed unfazed by Alana's outburst and responded without thinking. "Oh, I see…"

Alana's anger spiked at this. It was one phrase that always set her off, no matter who said it or in what context. The mere mention of sight was enough to fire her up. Of course the medic _saw_. They _all_ saw! Everyone in this damn Senate complex _saw_! Alana was the only one without any sight in the whole fucking palace! There was no need to constantly remind her of her blindness!

"Well, that's fantastic! Just *wonderful* that you have been blessed with the ability to see!" she hissed, turning sharply on her heel to face the stunned medic (or at least, she hoped she was facing her….it really was hard to tell, being _blind_ and all). "But, unlike the fortunate diplomats who walk these halls, I _cannot_ see. I do not need you helping me, and I do not need you reminding me of this weakness! All I need is for you to _leave me alone_!" Her voice had escalated, and a group of politicians relaxing on the plush furniture in a nearby viewing lounge stopped their mindless chatter to listen to the verbal beating the poor, unprepared medic was receiving.

The doctor scrambled for something to say, realizing her blunder too late. "Alana, I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't apologize! I don't want your pity!" the Soferian snarled viciously. Without another word, the seething Alana spun around and stalked down the corridor, leaving the young medic standing in a shocked stupor.

It took longer than Alana would have liked to finally locate the gym Skywalker had ordered her to. She had given up searching for the gym itself long ago, instead reaching out with the Force to find Skywalker. From there, she followed his trail to his actual presence, which eventually led her to the gym (a few wrong turns were made, here and there). She slammed her scaled palm on the entry button and hardly waited for the doors to slide open before she unceremoniously stomped into the cavernous room.

"Well, I'm here," she announced bluntly, stopping a few meters from where Skywalker stood. As usual, he wore a mask of unshakeable calm that only stoked the fires of Alana's anger.

"It took you a while. Did you have trouble finding this new location?" he inquired in his frustratingly smooth voice. Her hands curled into fists at her sides.

"No, no trouble at all. I was simply delayed by a nosey medic," she explained.

"I'm sure she was only trying to help."

"I don't _want_ her help!" Alana howled, then quickly reigned in her voice. She was aware of the tantrum she was throwing, and despite how good it felt, it was extremely petty. She knew better, and went about seething silently, her blind blue eyes narrowed to slits. Skywalker stepped forward, and-in a shocking move-rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Alana-" Alana stiffened and shrugged his hand off, but he continued, undeterred. "-maybe you don't want our help, but you need it."

"I don't need anybody's help." she muttered darkly. Skywalker sighed.

"This, Alana, is why I called you here today, instead of our usual training location on the roof. It is quiet in here, and I know you'll have no excuse not to hear what I am about to say," he explained, beginning to pace the room. She stayed put, arms hanging unmoving at her sides, body tensed.

The Jedi waited for her to ask exactly _why_ she had been called here, and what she was supposed to listen to, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of answering the question. Alana remained stony and silent. Once he realized he wasn't going to drag a response out of her, he continued.

"Alana, in the months that you have been, how shall I say it…._redeemed_, you have hardly improved much from the person you were before. You make no effort to change your former ways, or your attitude."

"What do you mean? If I hadn't changed, everyone in this building would be dead," she objected in a much quieter voice.

"Please, let me finish," he said, and continued, "No, you haven't killed anyone. But you have thought about it-multiple times, actually-and thoughts are as powerful as actions. Because, eventually, they do _become_ actions. You have imagined yourself slaughtering all of the beings in the Senate, which is just as bad as actually going through with it. Especially in your case. It means you haven't changed, and you aren't making much of an effort _to_ change."

"I am trying, Master," she sneered, not taking his words to heart. Skywalker sighed once more.

"But, Alana, I don't think this is something you can do on your own. We want to help you. We _can_ help you, if you'd let us. But your pride, your stubbornness, your independence…they're hurting you, not helping."

"What are you saying?" she asked, her voice thick with suspicion.

"Back on Earth, when you first woke up from your….hibernation, you faced the death penalty for all the crimes you'd committed as Darth Rane, and all the lives lost at your hand. It was waived-thanks in part to Aurora-under the condition that you would change, and make a true effort to follow the ways of the Jedi. So far, that hasn't happened."

Her breathing quickened.

"Alana, if you don't change, the judicial execution that was dismissed before will be honored."

There it was. The bomb had been dropped. The weight of Skywalker's news fell on Alana like a three-ton bag of rocks, smothering her. They would kill her. If she didn't change-

Inside Alana's head, the voice that was the remnant of Darth Rane exploded, making the Soferain wince. The dark side of her screamed in encouragement. If Skywalker threatened to kill her, then kill him before he had the chance to make good of his threat. Do what she'd longed to do for so long. Her light side objected, imploring her to accept the help Skywalker had offered her. This second chance at a normal life, to get rid of her dark side once and for all. Alana longed to listen to the angel on her shoulder, but Darth Rane was gaining strength.

The awful din in her head made it hard to concentrate. She squeezed her eyes shut (some good that did), clenched her teeth, dug her fingertips into the hard scales of her palm, fighting for control over her own mind.

_Shut up, dammit! Be quiet!_

The battle quieted to a dull roar, but it took longer than it ever had before to regain superiority in her head. The realization that she was on the verge of losing control drove a stake of fear into Alana's heart. She pushed that fear aside as fast as she could. At last, when she knew she could speak without screaming, the girl looked up. Her hands shook, but she was determined not to show her weakness.

Amazingly, only a few seconds had passed. And Skywalker, apparently, had not taken note of her dual nature, of the war raging within her mind. At least, he gave no sign of having noticed it.

The Jedi walked past her, the sound of his cloak brushing against the tops of his leather boots fading as he neared the door.

"I'll leave you to make the decision," he said, his voice resigned. He reached the exit and waved his hand over the sensor. The door slid open with a soft _swish_. "Please, make the _right_ decision. And Alana-"

She didn't react, just kept her chin raised, trying to hide it's slight tremble.

"Your hate, which you struggle with so much, that is the source of _all_ your problems, is not directed at who you think it is." he said in a near whisper, pausing by the open door. She blinked once; how could he say that? Everyone knew that she despised Soruto-she had every _right_ to despise him. How could Skywalker say that it wasn't directed at her former master?

"Your hate is directed at yourself, Alana."

With that, he exited the room. The door closed soundlessly behind him.

But Alana remained, standing with the same stiff posture she'd had since entering this gym, frozen by the words she'd just heard fall from Skywalker's lips. And from the dark recesses of her mind, Dark Rane rose again, continuing their silent verbal battle.


	2. Pretense

****I guess I should start writing this in so I don't get sued: I do not own Star Wars or Stargate. They belong to their respective people. =P ****

**Anywho, I'd just like to say thank you, on behalf of Aurora and I, to all the readers of GateWars. It's comforting to know that our work is being viewed by other people, and not just ourselves. XD And, just so I KNOW you aren't simply a dot on my traffic stats graph, it would be amazing if you reviewed this story/chapter. I want to know what you readers think and offer suggestions. SHARE YOUR INPUT! Let me know you're aliiiiiive! :D **

**Enjoy this newest update! **

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><p><em>One month later...<em>

Aurora: Aurora gazed through one of the large rectangular windows in the cafeteria of the Odyssey at the crystal blue and white light of hyperspace flowing past. The Tau'ri vessel flew through hyperspace to the capital of her home galaxy, Coruscant. These windows would provide the best view of the planet as they arrived in a short while. But that was not the only reason why she was there.

She'd needed to escape. To escape from the memories that plagued her, somewhere where she wouldn't think. And where better than the noisiest place on the ship? Silverware clattered and scraped on plates and voices drowned each other out until every word was so muddled that no conversation outside of three feet could be heard. But Aurora still found herself wandering into the dangerous depths in her mind, the darkest corner in which she had pushed the memories of terror, anguish, and constant torment. She resisted them day by day, but they still plagued her. Now that she thought about it, hyperspace closely resembled the crystalline blue Soferic Acid, the greatest weakness of her race. She could remember that familiar feeling of every vein in her body aflame, every cell freezing, and yet inexplicably burning at the same time...

_No!_

Aurora squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists at her sides. As if that would make the memories go away. She began to tremble and forced herself to breathe slowly, trying to calm herself down.

"Are you well?" A voice asked from behind her. Aurora's eyes widened, and she jumped in surprise.

"I am fine," she replied in a raspy voice. Aurora cleared her throat, continuing to breathe slowly and calmly. Slow and calm.

"I could not help noticing you here all by yourself. I came to see if you might want some company?"

Aurora glanced at the newcomer. The woman was tall and blond, and looked to be in her early twenties. She wore sand-colored clothing of unfamiliar cut, so Aurora assumed she was the woman who had arrived with Mr. Carter a few days before the Odyssey had left Earth. She was Tok'ra, as that soldier had mentioned. Whatever that meant. Aurora had not met her personally until now, but had seen her in the halls of the ship.

Aurora inclined her head, then made room for the woman to stand beside her. "I would appreciate your company. My name is Aurora."

"And I am named Madiyah. My symbiote is called Nimrel."

Aurora glanced at Madiyah, her attention finally diverted from herself. "Your symbiote?" she asked. Madiyah smiled and lowered her head so that her chin rested on her chest and her face was hidden. A moment later, she raised her head again. Aurora watched her curiously.

"_Greetings, Aurora. I am Nimrel,_" Her voice had deepened, with an reverberating, hollow sound, as if the Tok'ra was speaking from far away. Aurora stared at her, surprised.

"How…How do you do that?" she asked. Nimrel smiled.

"_Madiyah and I share this body. She is the host while I am her symbiote. I only do this for two reasons: Not only am I unable to survive without a host, but my own body cannot provide the convenience of mobility that a human form does._"

Aurora nodded slowly. She understood the concept, but could not grasp the idea of sharing her body with another being. After a moment, she turned back to the window, the glowing blue light highlighting her face in a ghostly manner.

"_You look tired. Have you been sleeping well?_" Nimrel asked.

"I'm fine!" Aurora snapped, her normally strong self-control weakening for a moment. She was perfectly capable of handling her problems by herself, and besides, it wasn't Nimrel's business…

"_Forgive me, I did not mean to offend_."

Aurora took a deep breath, then unclenched her fists. This was her burden, nobody else's! But she forced herself to calm down and think rationally.

"It's alright. I'm sorry for snapping at you."

Nimrel inclined her head. Another moment of silence passed until Nimrel spoke again.

"_Are you glad to be returning to your own galaxy?_"

"Yes and no."

"_Why is that?_"

Aurora turned to face Nimrel. Before she could stop herself, the words came pouring out of her mouth. "Yes, because I get to see my sister again. No, because everything that was ever dear to me, everyone that I ever loved, except for Alana, was killed." Her voice dropped to a low murmur. "I'm almost afraid that there is no life left for me here. Sofera is where I belong, but I am not sure if I could handle seeing the ruins of my own city, or if I could face the memories." Once again, she turned to watch that blue light flow by, the light that was so simple to understand. Unlike the situation she was in now.

The Tok'ra spoke again after a moment. Madiyah was back.

"I, too, lost my home and family. I can honestly say I know how you feel," she said. Aurora glanced at her, then back again at the window.

"I appreciate your concern, and am sorry to hear about your family. But you do not truly know how I feel, what I've been through, and frankly, you don't want to know."

Just at that moment, the ship exited hyperspace into the star flecked blackness of space. Coruscant loomed out of the bottom corner of the window.

"I regret to say that I must leave. I will be departing to see my sister soon. It was nice talking with you." Aurora spoke formally.

Madiyah inclined her head in acquiescence, and Aurora turned and strode purposefully out the door, feeling the woman's eyes on her back the entire time.

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><p><strong>Madiyah<strong>: Madiyah's eyes followed the Soferian as she exited the room. Something plagued this young woman, but she obviously didn't want help. Madiyah could not help wondering what it was that Aurora was trying to hide.

"_Curious,_" Nimrel said.

"Yes. I feel sorry for her—she's trying to hide feelings that are too strong to be suppressed."

"_Yes…they are strong. I suggest we keep an eye on her; she is too valuable to lose, with the knowledge she has of the enemy that attacked Earth. Besides, no one should have to deal with such pain alone._"

"I am curious as to what her sister is like," Madiyah said.

"_I am as well. Perhaps we should also keep an eye on her. For good measure._"

"For good measure," Madiyah agreed.

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><p><strong>Alana<strong>: In the month after Skywalker's death threat—Alana didn't think of it as a warning—he had not taken her up to the roof to train. Instead, the Jedi had opted to keep her shut inside the gym. And it wasn't really training, either; not in the way Alana thought of training. There were no light-side Force tricks to be taught, no combat practice without her hate to guide her. No, Skywalker would instruct her in a calm, soothing voice about clearing her mind and all that shit. He called it meditation; Alana called it being bored to tears. She could tell he was making an effort to draw her out of her shell and allow someone in, to help her control this raging hate that boiled in her like a witch's brew in an iron cauldron. But his previous words rang true; no one could help Alana if she didn't let them. And she was not about to let anyone help her.

This wasn't a problem, though. Skywalker had only said she needed to change to avoid the death penalty looming over her head. That did not mean she had to allow anyone inside her shell. The moment Skywalker had said she couldn't change on her own, that had only made Alana more determined to prove him wrong.

So she'd left the gym after that fateful day and made a conscious effort to change for the better. She responded without sarcasm and had actually smiled once. She talked and laughed, and had almost made "friends" with the senator's aides that raced up and down the halls of the Senate building, as well as that annoying medic. Once Alana had started to "care", she'd bothered to learn the doctor's name. Nalan, it was. Doctor Nalan. She was a Twi'lek and had wanted to become a medic since she was old enough to understand what a medic was.

Outwardly, Alana looked like she cared. But it was all a charade. In reality, Darth Rane's presence had ballooned inside the Soferian's mind. The Sith had gained strength, and Alana was no longer able to push her back at will. Whenever her temper flared, it took all her self-control and concentration not to let it show on her face. Lately, it had become an almost physical thing to resist. The exertion of fighting for control whenever an unknowing passerby rubbed her the wrong way taxed her both mentally and physically. After only a few days of suppressing the darkness, Alana was so exhausted that sleep had ceased to energize her. It became harder and harder to fight. She knew her resolve was crumbling. It was only a matter of time before she lost complete control, forfeiting her sanity along with it.

Alana might've had everyone else in the Senate building fooled into thinking she was improving, but they couldn't be further from the truth. Somewhere in her broken mind, Alana knew this. But she—every part of her, Darth Rane included—refused to do anything about it, or at the very least acknowledge it. So the Soferian suffered alone, each day of silent torture sending her closer to the edge. Still, she made the effort to keep herself as sane as possible.

Skywalker's indoor "training sessions" were not helping. She hated the feeling of being trapped, surrounded by solid walls on either side. Claustrophobia, apparently, was a side affect of going mad. And, like everything else, Alana hated it. But, like her growing mental instability, she did nothing but deny it.

Alana had begun coming up to the roof of the Senate building every evening, a chance to escape the trapped feeling she suffered indoors. The feel of the wind on her skin, the sounds of a hundred thousand speeders rushing below, the bitter, yet pleasant, taste of the polluted air on her tongue….it all whisked away the claustrophobia. Even Darth Rane seemed to quiet when she stood up there, all alone, on top of the world.

Today was no different than any other. Alana stood with her legs spaced a shoulder width apart, her hands clasped behind her back. Her sightless eyes were closed, which heightened her hearing and sense of smell. Everything was so calm, so perfect, an escape from the hell of her everyday life—

"Mistress Alana!" a mechanical voice called behind her. The unwelcome shuffling sounds of a protocol droid hurrying up to her drowned out the white noise of Coruscant's evening traffic. Darth Rane, which before had been lulled into a submissive state, roared to attention in her mind. Alana's peace was shattered. She sighed heavily and felt her wings droop behind her.

"What do you want?" she asked the droid, her voice resigned. Not turning around, she felt it stop a few yards from her. The fact brought a humorless smile to her lips; the droid was still wary after nearly two months of being around her. But then, it had a good reason to be cautious.

"Mistress Alana, I have just received word that the _Odyssey_ is in orbit above the planet. Mistress Aurora will be beamed down momentarily. I am to escort you to the landing platform where she will materialize," the droid informed Alana. The Soferian stiffened at the mention of her sister's name. Aurora was coming back _today_? That wasn't good. Alana might've been fooling Skywalker about her current mental and emotional state, but Aurora was much more in-tune with her sister's mind. She would know instantly that something was up with Alana. She had to think. It would be hard, with Darth Rane shrieking obscenities in her head, but Alana had to come up with a plan. At the very least, gain enough control of her mind so as not to feel suspicious when around Aurora.

After a few moments of silence, Alana took a deep breath, gathered all of the strength she could, and smiled (a fake smile, of course, but convincing enough).

"Alright, then. Let's go." she turned and followed the protocol droid down to the landing platform, doing her best to suppress a screaming Darth Rane. She succeeded….barely.

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><p><strong>Starfire<strong>: One moment Aurora was standing in the Asgard control room of the Odyssey, nodding to Sam to communicate that she was ready for transport, and the next moment, the molecules in her body were rearranging themselves as she appeared on Coruscant in a flash of silver-blue light. Waiting for her at the edge of the landing platform was Alana. Aurora looked at her sister in surprise. She came to greet her? Aurora suddenly felt a warm affection for her sister. Aurora crossed the distance between them and said warmly, "Hello, Alana."

Then, knowing her sister would probably hate the action and deciding she didn't care, Aurora wrapped her arms around her sister in a fierce hug, smiling from ear to ear. "It's good to see you," she said, stepping back and staring into her sister's eyes. "I missed you."

"It is good to see you as well, Sister," Alana spoke formally and returned her sister's hug a bit stiffly. "It has been too long."

It was a struggle to keep her voice even, as Darth Rane was protesting loudly in her mind. She wanted to scream at her, tell the Sith to shut up and go away, but that would only prove her instability and need for someone else's help. Plus, Darth Rane would only laugh at her and scream even louder. Best just to ignore her (hard as it was). Alana smiled to hide the struggle.

Of course Aurora saw beyond the feigned expression and knew instantly that something was wrong with Alana, but, knowing her sister and what would happen if the query was posed, did not pry. She probably wouldn't get a truthful answer, anyway. Perhaps she could worm it out of Alana, once the twins had a chance to get reacquainted after their long break from each other.

Aurora removed her hands from Alana's shoulders. "So. What next?"

Alana replied, "Master Skywalker has given us permission to leave the Palace for the night." Permission was needed solely for Alana (she wasn't allowed to leave the Senate building without an escort) and Skywalker had deemed Aurora a responsible chauffeur. It was on Alana's rather long list of pet peeves, having to be escorted everywhere. As if a single armed guard could protect anyone if Alana lost control of her divided mind. The guard was laughable and demeaning to Alana, but Skywalker insisted. And there was no going against the Jedi's word.

"Oh, so we need permission to leave for the night, now?" Aurora said, obviously amused. Alana laughed, desperately hoping it didn't sound as hollow as it felt.

"So says Master Skywalker," she answered. "Where do you want to go? We have the whole city to choose from. That is, unless you'd rather stay here with the politicians…."

"Yes, that sounds like _tons_ of fun," Aurora's voice dripped with sarcasm. Alana could picture her sister rolling her eyes. "I say we just find a good restaurant. They served paste for food on the _Odyssey—_except for the ice cream. That's one tradition I think I'll miss. In any case, I'm dying for a real meal."

Alana shrugged. "Alright. Food it is."


	3. Thoughts Become Actions

***waves hand in Jedi motion* You WILL review. **

**Once again, I don't own Star Wars or Stargate. =P**

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><p><strong>Starfire<strong>: The restaurant Aurora chose was only a few kilometers from the Senate building. It wasn't the classiest joint, but it wasn't fast food, either. Stepping into the crowded dining room, the mouthwatering scent of a hundred different dishes from a hundred different worlds permeated the humid air. Just as many beings were seated at tables spaced evenly throughout the space, each seeming to speak a different language. The waitress droid promptly seated the sisters at the back of the restaurant, and though Alana couldn't see, she knew that many of the individuals in the room were staring at the Soferian sisters. Wings provided an easy mode of transportation, but they were also very uncommon among other species in the galaxy. As she had done with Darth Rane (or tried to, at least), Alana ignored them.

Aurora slid into the booth seat across from her sister. The waitress handed them their menus and left them to browse the entrees. The menus didn't do Alana much good, though, and she suppressed an irritated hiss.

"I'll have what you're having, Aurora," Alana sighed, setting the holographic menu on the table.

"Are you sure? I can read the menu aloud to you, if you—"

"No!" Alana said, a little too vehemently. She quickly lowered her voice. "No, it's fine, I'll just...have what you're having."

"Alana, is something wrong?" Aurora finally asked the question that had been on her mind since beaming to Coruscant. Her voice oozed with concern.

"No, I'm sorry. I guess I'm still a little sensitive about my….handicap," Alana replied. It was a half-truth, at least. She would have come up with some other fantastic lie, but she found it hard to conjure up convincing stories without consulting the ever-present Sith remnant in her head.

Aurora wasn't satisfied with that answer, nor should she be, but she let it slip. Obviously she wanted to wait for tomorrow to begin the prying questions. Without another word the Earth Soferian turned her eyes back to the menu, scanning the list of dishes.

"Hmm….this dish from Corellia looks interesting—" Aurora began, but was cut off by a peppy voice that reached the sisters from halfway across the restaurant.

"Alana!"

Alana stiffened, recognizing the shrill tone. It was Nalan. The Soferian gritted her teeth and reached for her water glass, needing something to occupy her hands so they wouldn't find themselves wrapped around the Twi'lek's neck.

"Alana, hey! Strange meeting you here, huh?" the overly-friendly medic said, dropping into the empty space on the bench beside Alana.

"Who is this?" Aurora wondered. "She looks….familiar."

Nalan giggled. "I was one of the medics that treated you both after the Battle of Earth. I'm Nalan."

"Pleasure to meet you, Nalan," Aurora said politely. The two might've shook hands; Alana wasn't paying attention. She was focusing more on not losing control, something that had just become much more difficult. Her control over Darth Rane was at its weakest whenever Nalan was around. She forced her five-hundredth smile that night.

"I have to say, it's good that Jedi Master Skywalker finally let Alana out of that Senate building. She had to have been getting cabin fever, cooped up in that stuffy old palace. She's been stuck in there ever since she came back from the Milky Way!" Nalan said.

"Really? Why is that?" Aurora asked, genuinely curious.

"For the first couple of weeks back on Coruscant, she wasn't showing any sign of changing back from her, how shall I say, 'darker side'." Nalan explained, punctuating this remark with an inappropriately placed giggle. Alana felt uneasiness ooze into her mind. The previously warm room suddenly felt ice cold.

"Nalan, maybe we should talk about something else—"

"No, it's alright, Alana, I want to hear this," Aurora interjected, misinterpreting Alana's nervousness. Nalan laughed again.

"Embarrassed, Alana?" she teased. Alana took a calming breath through her nose, but it didn't do much. She could feel her temper rising, and the voice in her head rose in volume. The world around her suddenly sounded muted compared to the horrible din in her mind. Still, she remained in control, and silent as well, knowing that if she opened her mouth to answer Nalan then things might very well spiral out of control from there.

Nalan continued, "Anyway, back to what I was saying, it wasn't until Master Skywalker put Alana in her place that she really turned around."

"How did Master Skywalker 'put her in her place' exactly? He didn't do that before. He just….ignored her bad temper," Aurora said, almost forgetting the topic of their conversation was sitting across from her.

Nalan seemed uncomfortable now, but she answered anyway. "Well, he said that if she didn't make an effort to let go of her darker side, the execution that had originally been planned for her would be carried out."

Aurora sucked in a breath. "He wouldn't do that!" she gasped, incredulous.

"Well, he might, but….Alana's changed now, so it doesn't matter, right?" Nalan said, her tone filled with forced brightness. "I mean, sometimes I see a little of Darth Rane in her, but not so much."

It happened in an instant. One moment, Alana was well in charge of her mind and her body. The next, she snapped. That _name_ was the trigger.

"NO!" she screamed, jumping up and fixing a sightless glare on Nalan. "Darth Rane isn't here anymore! She is dead! Dead dead dead dead _dead_! Darth Rane _does not_ exist anymore! I _killed_ her!" Hysteria laced her tone. Her words were there to convince herself as much as Nalan, to deny the fact that Darth Rane was still there in her overcrowded mind. But her need to deny the truth sent her over the edge. Alana's control melted. The dark side took over, chasing Alana from her limbs and locking her in her mind. Darth Rane was in full control.

Nalan scooted away from Alana, not quite realizing the danger she was in. "Hey, Alana, chill. I didn't mean that you were still like that—"

But Darth Rane was not about to give up so easily. She would not allow Alana's anger to be placated. Hate radiated off her in waves, an almost tangible thing in the thick air.

"Don't give me that!" she snarled. Her hand flew out of its own accord, and her scaled fingers wrapped around Nalan's smooth throat. The Twi'lek yelped and tried to jump away, but it was too late. Alana tightened her grip. With merely a flick of her arm, she sent the medic flying across the room and crashing into a table. Surprised cries filled the room.

"Enough, Alana!" Aurora's outraged voice barely penetrated through the dark haze of Alana's mind. The Ice Soferian ignored her sister, jumping into the air toward the fallen medic. With the aide of the Force, she landed beside Nalan before the Twi'lek had a chance to get up and flee.

In a desperate attempt to save her doomed life, Nalan said. "Alana, you said you killed Darth Rane! Stop what you're doing!" Her voice shook.

But the Sith controlled Alana's speech.

"Darth Rane was not dead; she was simply dormant," Alana hissed, her voice a growl. She could feel Nalan's fear, feeding her actions and fueling her hate. A feral grin twisted her lips. "Good-bye, Nalan."

Aurora rushed forward to stop her sister, but she was too late. Alana was already moving. In one swift motion, she had reached down and once more wrapped her hand around Nalan's throat. The Twi'lek scrabbled uselessly at Alana's vice-like grip. With a final twitch of Alana's hand, the vertebrae in Nalan's neck snapped. The Twi'lek's body went limp.

It was then Darth Rane finally decided to give her peace. She fled Alana's mind, and for the first time in months, Alana was alone in her head. She could hear everything so _clearly_.

But there was nothing to hear. The patrons of the restaurant had all frozen in place, terror-filled eyes fixed on her. Fear hung like a wet blanket over the humid room. No one breathed. And Alana realized what she'd done.

Horror crashed over her like a wave. Nalan's body slipped from her hand and landed with a dull thud on the ground. Bile rose in her throat and she staggered backward. Alana's legs felt as though they had been replaced with jelly, and her blind eyes widened in shock. Skywalker's threat danced in her head to the beat of her thudding heart.

_If you don't change, the judicial execution that was dismissed before will be honored._

She was going to die. This she knew with absolute certainty, now. She had failed to change—she had actually _killed_ someone—and now she was going to die.

"What have I done?" she whispered hoarsely. Her voice sounded quiet and far away.

"Alana?" It was Aurora. Her voice was cold; Alana couldn't remember her sister's tone ever sounding so uninviting. But it shouldn't be a surprise for it to be as icy as it was, after what Alana had just done.

The Earth Soferian crossed the room and wrapped her scaled hand around Alana's upper arm. "It's time to go, Alana." She didn't resist.

As Alana was dragged back from the restaurant, she knew Aurora was leading her back to the Palace. Back to justice. Back to her _death_. The thought of death didn't terrify her, didn't repulse her. She deserved it. She wanted to die.

Aurora, on the other, did not want that outcome. The thought of returning to the government building and turning her sister in was not an option for the Earth Soferian. Aurora now knew that Alana would be sentenced to death should they return. The right choice was to turn Alana in; however, Aurora was incapable of doing so for multiple reasons, most of all her own selfishness and the need to keep the last of her family alive.

There was only one option: _Flee_.

Aurora dragged her shell-shocked sister out the back door of the restaurant, striding purposefully past the fearful gazes of the restaurant's patrons. Aurora knew they needed an escape, and the only way she could think of was to steal someone's ship. It was either that, or spread their wings and fly off, which was sure to draw more unwanted attention than simple theft would.

_Kiret Luoya_, the Great Artist, must have been looking out for them, because at that very moment, a small, sleek starship touched down on the back landing pad amid the speeders and non-space worthy vehicles. As she watched, a figure cloaked in black exited the ship and casually jogged inside the restaurant. He or she was obviously in a hurry, because they left the engine running and the door open.

Without hesitation, Aurora took off running toward the ship, pulling her twin behind her. She bustled the Ice Soferian inside the ship and settled her in the copilot's chair, taking the pilot's seat for herself.

With an oath of frustration, she stared at the control panel. Every type of knob, lever, and button imaginable seemed to be present, and for obvious reasons, none of them were labeled in Soferian. She glanced over the panel, looking for some sort of helpful drawing that might indicate how to shut the door. When she thought she had located it, she cautiously pressed the button. Miraculously, she had found the right one. The ramp slid upward and the hatch shut tightly. With a hiss, the cabin pressurized.

Aurora knew what the brake was supposed to look like and found it without much difficulty. She disengaged it and pulled back on the steering yoke, praying that somehow it was ready to take off. With a shudder, the aircraft pulled into the air. Just then, the cloaked figure came back out of the restaurant and saw the twins through the viewshield. But they were too late. Aurora steered the ship up and away from the scene of the crime.

Disbelieving wonder came across her face as the vehicle left the restaurant far behind. Within minutes the ship had exited the atmosphere. When they were a safe distance from the planet, Aurora plotted the coordinates and the ship pulled into hyperspace.

Their destination: Sofera.

They were going home.


	4. Viewshield Wipers

**I've been busy. Forgive my lateness of posting this. D; I don't own Star Wars, or Stargate. Reviews are loved. =P Read away.**

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><p><strong>Starfire<strong>: Aurora had kidnapped her.

Somewhere, lost in the fuzzy depths of her almost-drunken mind, Alana knew her sister had taken her away from Coruscant, for the punishment that Alana both deserved and wanted. It was infuriating, and under different circumstances, Alana might have screamed at her sister with the anger she felt. But her memories of the scene in the restaurant prevented her from doing so. Her body was limp, and she stared vacantly off into the distance, still feeling the vertebrae in Nalan's spine pop in her hands. The anger did not last long. It evaporated and left Alana alone with her murky thoughts for a while.

But at last the fog cleared and lucidity took it's place. As her mind "solidified" from the unintelligent mush that horror had reduced it to, she became more aware of her surroundings. And when at last a mental picture had been constructed in her mind, Alana felt a chill run down her spine.

The room she sat in was small and narrow, with a low ceiling. A soft hum filled the air, and minute vibrations shook the walls. She was sitting in a chair so hard and uncomfortable it could only belong in one thing: a starship. She was on a ship. And not alone, either.

Beside her, Alana could sense Aurora. At the controls. Piloting the ship away from Coruscant. The cold feeling from before vanished, vaporized by the violent return of her searing anger.

"Aurora!" Alana shouted, jerking up from her slumped position in the chair. Her loud voice echoed uncomfortably off the durasteel walls of the cockpit.

"Alana, you're awake—" Aurora began, but Alana didn't give her sister a chance to finish. She shot to her feet but was stopped by the low ceiling, and her skull met the hard surface with a crack. She fell back into her chair, dazed.

But still very much angered.

"How _could_ you, Aurora?" she screamed, turning her head to face her sister, balling her scaled hands into fists at her sides.

"Calm down, Alana!' Aurora said, reaching forward with one hand. Alana slapped it away.

"I deserve to die—hell, I _want_ to die—and you think I should live anyway? _Fuck you!_" she snarled, breaking into a long string of profanities, many of them Soferian.

"Just calm down and _listen_ to me, Alana!" Aurora had to raise her voice to be heard over her sister's swearing. Frustrated, the Earth Soferian clapped her hand over Alana's mouth. Alana jerked away, her face twisted into a demonic glare, but she quieted down.

"Alright, Aurora. I'm calm. Now why the hell am I here?" she asked in a frighteningly even voice. "Why do you see a need to prolong my misery? Do you know that by 'rescuing' me, you've just ruined your own life? You can never go back to Coruscant or they'll give you twenty years in a Republic prison cell. I'm not _worth_ that, dammit!" her voice rose with the curse.

"Just listen, Alana! Please!" Aurora pleaded, reaching towards her. Alana flinched back and spoke again, obviously not wanting an answer to her posed questions.

"No, _you_ listen, Aurora!" she screeched. "My life was over the moment you showed up on Earth. No, scratch that. It was over the moment the Empire invaded Sofera. When we saw our father blown to bits in front of us. When Soruto found me and kidnapped me and trained me. Twisted my soul into a cold, dark thing. My life has been over for so long, almost from the moment I was born, and there was nothing you or I could do about it. It's too late for me. And now, in a misguided attempt to save the Unredeemable Me, you've just ended _your own_ life."

Alana's voiced faded to a whisper, far too tired and emotionally drained from the previous week to sustain her temper for an extended period of time. "Why couldn't you just let me _die_?"

Slowly, she slid off of her chair, and, with her back against the ship's control panel, let her head fall into her hands. Aurora, seeing that words could not be used to reach her sister in such a state, sank down beside Alana. Awkwardly—for that cockpit was rather small, and barely big enough for two humans, let alone two Soferians—Aurora pulled her twin into a hug.

This time, Alana didn't pull away.

The trip passed without another incident. Hours flew by, and the two Soferians eventually fell asleep. After a good eighteen hours, they were both awoken by the beeping of an alarm on the control panel. Aurora rose, yawning and rubbing the back of her now sore neck. The Earth Soferian told the computer to turn off the alarm, and she was left to gaze out the large window.

Before them loomed a planet: Sofera. Large, by normal standards, and covered with mostly water. Layers of thick grey clouds swirled across the planet, offering tell-tale glimpses of a single green continent through the cover, a tiny spit of land blanketed with thick jungle. It stared at them from the massive ocean, making the planet appear like a giant sapphire and emerald eye, made blind by cloudy cataracts. Hidden on the dark side of the globe, Aurora knew, was another wilder, untamed continent. Landing there would be suicide, and it seemed quite pointless to flee one death just to die another. It was the trapezoidal blot of land, the iris of the eye, centered in the viewscreen, where they would touch down.

"Alana, wake up. We've arrived," Aurora said from the pilot's seat.

Alana lifted her head and glanced up to where her sister's voice had come from. "Then let's get this over with," she sighed, just a hint of bitterness in her groggy voice. It appeared Alana would make a full recovery back to her old self; the gruff attitude was quickly making a comeback, with one major difference: Darth Rane was gone, and she would never plague Alana's mind again.

Aurora shifted her gaze back to the planet looming before them, then nervously grabbed the steering yolk and guided the small ship into the planet's atmosphere. Her inexperience at flying was going to be a slight problem in landing, but the best she could do was try.

Their small craft, which Aurora now noticed seemed to be of a new design, entered the outer reaches of the thermosphere with a jolt. As the ship went further and further, the cockpit grew hotter and hotter, and the craft shuddered violently. It was all Aurora could do to not let go of the steering yoke.

"Uhh….Alana? Is this supposed to happen?" she said over the roaring of the ship's straining engine.

Alana wondered if she should strap herself in as the shaking increased. "Did you put the heat shields up before entering the atmosphere?" she asked, questioning Aurora's competence as a pilot.

"What? What shields?" Aurora replied, slightly panicked. Her light green eyes widened in distress, and her scaled hands gripped the yoke with as much strength as she had.

Alana stared incredulously at what she hoped was her sister.

"Haven't you ever flown before?"

"Well, it's not like Soruto ever taught me!" Aurora responded. "But it wasn't hard to program the coordinates or jump to lightspeed! I thought landing would be straight forward!"

Alana was struck dumb. She had a sudden urge to bang her head repeatedly against the cockpit wall.

"Well, that's just GREAT, isn't it? Rescued from my execution only to burn up on re-entry in the get-away ship!" She sighed. "All right, just….just stay calm. Find the heat shield controls and switch them 'ON'. We'll figure out how to land if you get us into the lower layers of the atmosphere first," she instructed.

"Just one problem." Aurora said nervously as she pulled back on the yoke to slow their descent.

"What?" Alana snapped. "This is the new model, right? Everything on this ship—especially in the cockpit—should be labeled! Where is the problem?" It was getting hotter in the cramped space, and sweat was starting to bead on Alana's forehead.

"Yes, everything is labeled, but that doesn't help us when I can't read! At least, not Basic. And _guess what? EVERYTHING_ is labeled in Basic!"

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T READ BASIC?" Alana shrieked. "HOW DID YOU TAKE OFF IN THE FIRST PLACE? WHAT WERE YOU _THINKING?"_

"Well, it's not like I had any choice! And it certainly was convenient that the owner of this damn vehicle left the engine running!" Aurora shouted back. The Earth Soferian frantically began pushing random buttons and flipping random switches.

"What are you _doing?"_ Alana asked, wishing more than ever that she had her sight back. "Whatever you're doing, stop it right now, before you accidentally hit the self-destruct or something! We need to _calmly_ think this through."

"AND WHAT DO YOU _THINK_ I SHOULD DO? IN JUST A FEW MINUTES, WE'LL BE BURNT TO A CRISP AND *POOF*! THERE GOES ALL MY HOPES AND DREAMS OUT THE WINDOW!" Aurora yelled back, thoroughly panicked, hysteria coloring her tone. She flipped switches, twisted knobs, and pounded buttons relentlessly. After hitting one particular button, a soft swishing sound filled the cockpit.

"NEWSFLASH, AURORA! Your hopes and dreams flew out the window when you, in your INFINITE wisdom, decided to save me from my impending execution!" Alana paused for a breath, and for a moment, there was silence. Silence, save for that soft swishing sound. When Alana spoke again, her voice was deathly calm. "And what, pray tell, is _that_ sound, Aurora?"

"I believe that is the viewshield wipers," her sister answered meekly.

"GIVE ME THE CONTROLS _NOW!" _Alana shouted, lunging at her sister._ "_I'm blind and I can do a much better job landing this damn ship than you!"

The alarm began to ring loudly as the ship flew further into Sofera's atmosphere, and the computer's voice said, _"Warning. Approaching maximum heat threshold. Warning."_

"JUST GIVE ME THE CONTROLS!" Alana screamed, limbs flailing awkwardly as she tried to push her sister from the pilot's chair. "WE ARE GOING TO DIE!"

"Alana! We are NOT going to die. At least, not if _I_ can help it! Now just wait a minute while I think!" Aurora screamed back, trying a rational approach after realizing panicking was getting them nowhere.

"We don't HAVE a minute! We have less than thirty seconds to activate those shields or we are going to disintegrate!" Now it was Alana who began randomly pressing buttons in the hopes of turning on the shields that would save their lives.

"What about that trick we tried a couple months ago ago? Like, where you could see through my eyes. Would that work?"

"I don't know! Maybe!" Alana grunted, not really believing the trick would work but willing to try anything.

Aurora attempted to grab onto Alana's shoulder, but something odd was happening to the seats as the Ice Soferian continued to push every button she could find.

"Alana, hold still!"

"What the—AAGH!" Alana cried as Aurora's seat suddenly shot backwards. Alana dropped from her sprawled position on Aurora's lap to the cockpit floor, right as Aurora's seat came shooting forward and smashed her against the control panel.

"ARGH!" she howled wordlessly in frustration.

Aurora unbuckled herself from the chair as it flew back and forth, and threw herself out of harm's way.

"Alana! Does the floor feel unnaturally hot to you?"

The computer's voice came back to life. "Crossing maximum heat threshold in ten, nine..."

"ALANA!"

In desperation, Alana propped herself up on one elbow and screamed, "COMPUTER, ACTIVATE HEAT SHIELDS!"

There was a tense pause as the countdown continued, the ship's shaking growing more violent. Aurora closed her eyes and prayed frantically to any and every deity that came to mind.

"Heat shields raised, cooling sequence activated," the computer chimed at last. At once, the sweltering heat of the cockpit that had begun to melt the synthetic soles of the sister's boots diminished as the air conditioning kicked in.

Aurora stared at Alana, shocked at the twins' last five minutes of hell. "That was _all we had to do?"_ she wailed. "We endured all that for _nothing?" _So it appeared.

Meanwhile, the chairs were still rocketing wildly around the cockpit. Alana slammed her hand on the control panel in frustration, somehow managing to hit the button that deactivated them. The gentle _swish swish _sound persisted.

"Well, you know me. I always like to make things FAR more difficult than they really are," she grunted sarcastically. She was just as enraged as Aurora at how easy averting a crisis was. Wincing, the Ice Soferian pulled herself into the passenger seat. Her side ached from where the chair had repeatedly slammed into it, making it painful to drag in each breath. Alana's attitude went from bad to worse.

"Let's just land the damn ship already."

Aurora nodded, and with a nervous gulp, climbed back into the pilot's chair, gripping the steering yoke once again.

"….Alana?"

Alana sighed heavily. "Find the brake. Or something like the brake. You know where that is, don't you? Wait, on second thought, just find the throttle and pull back on it to slow our descent. Use the yoke to angle the nose slightly downward. If we're lucky, we'll crash and survive, because I'm about one hundred percent positive that you cannot safely land a ship," she instructed.

"Ohh...kay," Aurora replied. She readjusted her grip on the yoke and took a steading breath. She followed Alana's instructions, and they made it to the lower layers of the atmosphere. As they descended through the cloud cover, Aurora became thankful that the viewshield wipers were already on to clear away the moisture. Their situation would've been even more hopeless if she became just as blind as her sister.

Speaking of Alana, the Ice Soferian sat like a statue in her seat, fingers gripping the arms of the chair so tightly she thought she'd snap them in half. So far, so good, though; they hadn't crashed yet. That was an accomplishment in itself, wasn't it?

As it turned out, yes, it was. Because at that moment Aurora decided she wanted to know how badly the ship had been hurt. "Computer, what damage was sustained before the heat shields were raised?" she inquired.

The computer chimed, "Hull integrity diminished to thirty-five point six percent. Landing thrusters disabled. Hyperdrive containment box fractured. Engine coolant mechanism disabled. Sublight engines critical. Probability of uncontained fuel combustion reaction: ninety-two point seven percent."

Aurora looked over at Alana, horror painting her face.

Alana gritted her teeth. "Just ignore it. There's nothing we can do at the moment. But when you 'land', try not to make it _too_ rough," she advised.

Aurora nodded, then, remembering her sister couldn't see her, verbally acknowledged her.

The next few minutes passed in tense silence as Aurora focused on landing the ship. First things first, she had to find a safe spot to land. She assumed that would be the difficult part, taking into account the wild tangle of uncivilized jungle she'd seen from above, but as they fell beneath the clouds, a promising grassy clearing came into view amidst the vines. Aurora angled the ship towards the defoliated area.

Without warning, the fuel tank exploded.


	5. Rescue

**Starfire**: A split second before the tank blew up, a ripple in the Force alerted Alana to the danger.

"LOOK OUT!" she screamed, throwing herself to the floor just as the ship was rocked violently by the explosion. Alarms sounded and it was suddenly much hotter than before. They were lucky the ship was now only a few thousand feet above the ground, or the sudden depressurization of the cabin would have killed the sisters. Thick smoke filled the cock pit and made it hard to breathe.

Alana struggled to get up; the explosion seemed to have sent the ship into a nose dive, creating tremendous G Forces. Thank goodness Soferian physiology was made for them.

"Aurora?" Alana called, her voice breaking off into a hacking cough from inhaling the putrid smoke. Pain stabbed through her abdomen where the seats had banged against her before as she sucked in each breath. The crackling of flames rose over the din of wailing sirens, and the heat was almost unbearable.

"Aurora!" Alana called again, louder this time.

Aurora had sensed the ripple, but unlike Alana, hadn't recognized it until it was too late. Her head slammed backward into the headrest of the pilot's seat as a massive heat wave washed over her.

Though it had a thin layer of padding, Aurora's head had met the headrest with tremendous force, and for a moment, her body went limp and everything faded to black. But she managed to hold onto consciousness by a thread and reached for the steering yoke.

The cabin was now filled with blistering hot smoke, and Aurora's lungs burned with every breath. Dimly, she could hear Alana's frantic calls, but she didn't answer. If she couldn't pull the ship out of the nosedive, the two sisters would die on impact with the planet's surface. Gritting her teeth, she ignored Alana and concentrated on leveling out the ship.

Aurora pulled back as hard as she could on the steering yoke. Her eyes watered from the smoke, and her lungs screamed for air. The noise plugged her ears, making her concussed head pound and see double of everything. Yet she held on, pulling on the yoke with all of her strength. A wordless roar flew from her lips.

The ship leveled out, and not a moment too soon. In the next moment the ship plowed into the turf.

It skidded along the ground, tearing deep ruts in the soil behind it. The vessel rocked violently, and its passengers were tossed around like rag dolls. Aurora was buckled into her seat, giving her a slight advantage in their situation, but she was still yanked back and forth and in all directions by the rocking of the ship.

The vessel was quickly falling apart. Sparking wires and metal beams swung down from the ceiling, dangerously close to the two sisters. The skeleton of the ship was collapsing under the stress of the crash in its weakened state from its entrance into the atmosphere.

A small metal beam crashed down from overhead as the ship came to a sudden, jarring halt. It hit the console, plowing through the controls and sending up a shower of sparks. Unfortunately, it hit Aurora as well, glancing off the side of her head with enough force to knock her unconscious. Instantly, the world turned black, giving the Earth Soferian no time to wonder what had happened to her sister.

**Alana**: It was fire and smoke and wires and paneling mixed together in one horrible cyclone, bringing with it a pain that made it hard to think. Alana felt herself being flying around the cockpit like a toy as the ship bore through the underbrush of Sofera's massive forests.

After what felt like an eternity, the ship came to a stop with a jarring _thunk_. It took a moment for Alana to realize she was no longer moving. Stunned, she blinked her sightless eyes and took inventory of the situation.

1. She was alive.  
>2. She was in pain.<br>3. She was wedged underneath a twisted piece of paneling that had pinned her to the floor of the craft.  
>4. The floor of the ship was scalding because of the fires that continued to burn, filling the enclosed space with smoke.<br>5. Oxygen was becoming scarce.

Choking on the smoke, Alana pushed up with all her might against the sheet of metal holding her down. No luck. She could feel her mind fogging from lack of oxygen and knew she was within inches of unconsciousness. To weak to try again, the Ice Soferian slumped against the wall, her cheek pressed to the scalding floor.

"Aurora!" she coughed out. The words rubbed her throat raw. There was no answer. _Don't panic, Alana…_ she told herself. But at that moment, she tried to inhale—and she couldn't. Gasping like a fish out of water, she tried again. No luck. The oxygen was gone. She was suffocating.

_At least we died on Sofera…_.was Alana's last thought before she joined her sister unconsciousness.

**Miren**: Miren dashed through the trees of Sofera's thick forests, nimbly bounding over the roots, fallen trunks, ferns, and creepers that decorated the forest floor. Her white reptilian wings were held tightly against her back, preventing them from snagging on any low branches she might come in contact with.

Beside her raced four other Soferians, two Fire, one Ice, and one Earth. With Miren present, all four Soferian races were represented—Fire, Ice, Earth, and Air.

The other four Soferians, all male, were there for their muscles, because Miren would likely need their help in hauling any survivors out of the ship that just entered the atmosphere, and perhaps moving other pieces of the ship. Miren was there for her experience with high explosives.

Oriole, the leader of the Soferians that had survived the holocaust nearly twenty years before, had ordered that the group to destroy any ship that dared to land on Sofera, as a precautionary measure. There were only a handful of the winged species left, and there was always the possibility that whoever had committed the atrocity all those years before might return to finish what they'd started. Therefore, if the Soferians destroyed any possible weapons that the visitors might have, and the visitors themselves, they remained safe.

The five Soferians reached the site of where the ship had gone down. Smoke rose from the twisted mass of metal, and right away, Miren knew that her bombing skills would not be needed. This ship would never operate again. The four men awaited her orders.

"Go inside. Search for survivors. We'll take them to Oriole and he can deal with them," she commanded.

The men obeyed her, and, after a short period of time, came out again, two slumped forms in the arms of two of the men. Miren sucked in a breath, surprised. _They were Soferian_. And badly wounded, it seemed; the Ice Soferian had multiple bruises and burns, a dislocated arm, and at least half a dozen broken ribs. The Earth Soferian was in no better condition. A stream of silver blood ran down the side of her face, and multiple scratches and bruises covered her body as well. Fine metal dust and ash coated both of the survivors.

Miren felt no sympathy for them. In fact, staring at the two strangers, she felt nothing but disgust. The two of them were fully grown Soferians, at least twenty years old, and had most certainly been alive during the Holocaust. These Soferians had run away from the battle, the cowards. Somehow, they had escaped Sofera all those years ago, instead of staying and defending their home. Maybe they had thought that they could just come back and resume their life here once the danger had passed. Oriole would have a news flash for them.

"Come," Miren said simply, motioning for the men to follow her. "It's time these two had a little touch with reality."

**Oriole**: The caves where the Soferian survivors had lived for the past many years were quite beautiful. Elegant. A comforting taste of the home they had all lost. Back when Sofera was filled with a thriving population, the caves had been a sacred part of their culture, said to be the home of the worshipped and revered _Kiret Luoya_. The dark, shimmering stone within the caves was unlike any that could be found anywhere else in the galaxy. In many of the caverns, it felt as though you were standing in space itself. Light filtered down from minute holes in the high ceilings and reflected off of the obsidian surface, giving the impression of billions of stars swirling around you.

But Oriole had long since ceased to notice the beauty of the caves. They provided shelter and a safe place to live. Nothing else mattered at this point. Currently, the Fire Soferian paced outside the hidden entrance to the caves now, the tips of his golden-orange wings brushing the ground. Strapped to his hip was a blaster, and a shotgun was fixed on his back between his wings by a shoulder holster. Four thermal detonators were fastened to his belt. Multiple vibroblades were hidden all over his body; in his sleeve, on his calf, under his shirt. He was, by far, the most armed Soferian in the colony.

At this very moment, Oriole was wondering why he had put Miren—a mere adolescent, and one of the youngest Soferians on the planet—in charge of the recon team sent out to investigate the ship that had shot like a bullet from the cloud cover and crashed into the jungle, mere kilometers away from the caves. He should have gone out there himself, instead of sitting tight back at base camp.

_No sense beating yourself up about it now, Oriole. She's gone. You just have to trust she can handle the responsibility._ He trusted her, of course. He just wasn't sure the four Soferians he'd sent out with her would follow her orders.

Every so often, the Fire Soferian would lift his golden eyes from the ground he was pacing to scan the surrounding forest for any sign of the returning team. When they didn't show, he would anxiously run a scaled hand through his mop of dark hair. Riari was always saying how he needed a trim, that pretty soon he was going to look like a wild man instead of the refined leader the colony needed. He always brushed her off. He had more important things to do. Now he thought he might have to take her up on that offer. His hair _was_ getting a bit out of hand.

_It is odd what things will come to your mind while anxiously waiting for a reconnaissance team to return. _

At that moment, there was a rustling in the bushes. Oriole's scaled hand flew to the blaster at his hip, but before he could remove it from its holster, he realized it was the long-awaited recon team returning. _Finally…_.he thought, running a hand through his hair again.

Miren emerged from the trees first, followed by Kyo, Jarek, Kint, and Hadel. In Kyo's arms Oriole could make out the limp form of a Soferian woman. Her ice blue wings were tucked against his body to prevent them from dragging on the ground. Hadel also appeared to be carrying a Soferian woman: easily the other's twin, taking into account their similar facial structures. This one, however, had pale green wings. Earth and Ice. A strange combination for identical twins. Both appeared to be injured and in need of medical attention.

Oriole broke out of the rut he'd created in the ground while pacing and approached the group. He wasn't the tallest one in the colony, but at seven feet, six inches, there were few who towered above him. He gave Miren a smoldering glare.

"I failed to hear any sound that suggested you detonated their vessel," he said flatly, crossing his arms.

Miren shrugged. "I decided not to," she answered. At Oriole's look of fury, she laughed and raised her hands in a defensive manner. "Don't worry, don't worry. The ship crashed hard. It will never run again. I wouldn't be surprised if it detonated itself." With a glance of disgust at the two newcomers, she continued. "These were found in the vessel. They have a few injuries that'll need to be looked at. Besides that, they're all yours. Don't take it too easy on them," she said, eyes narrowing. Miren strode around her leader and further into the obsidian tunnel.

Oriole turned his glower from the adolescent to the limp bundles in his men's arms.

"Take them to the infirmary. Don't waste any anesthetic on them if they wake up, either. A little suffering'll do them good," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," Kyo, the burly Earth Soferian, said. He nodded at Hadel (a Fire Soferian) and the two disappeared in the cave entrance. Turning back to the two remaining men, Oriole jerked his head to an even more obscure tunnel off to the side.

"Go up to the scout peak and double check to make sure no other ships are coming in," The remaining Soferians, Kint and Jarek, exchanged a glance.

"Sir, our power reserves are almost depleted. With the cloud cover, we can't recharge the storage cells. We don't think we'll see the sun until the monsoon season has passed. Are you sure you want to waste the energy scanning for other incoming vessels?" Kint, the resident engineer, asked. Oriole blew a strand of hair out of his face. They were out of power already? Damn.

He shook his head. "Belay that last order. You did good. Return to normal duty," he said. The two men nodded and scurried back into the caves. Casting one last, long look up at the uniformly grey sky, the leader of the last surviving cell of Soferians followed them into the dim caves.

**Roen**: Roen sat back on the bio bed in the infirmary, watching Riari as she carefully sutured the wound on his upper arm. It hurt like hell every time the strange hooked needle punctured the flesh around the deep wound, but he was allergic to the pain killers. So he had to live with a bit of discomfort. If this wasn't done, he'd eventually lose his arm when infection set into the wound. And it seemed really pathetic to lose your arm if you just cut yourself performing routine maintenance.

It was stupid, really. Charging the lights in the hangar was a menial task that Oriole's five-year-old daughter could manage. Roen just happened to be a magnet for bad luck. The light hadn't been properly turned off before he'd begun to charge it. Of course, the electrical charge had shocked him and sent him flying a few feet backwards, into a pile of scrap metal that seemed to serve no purpose other than to pose a hazard to poor workers like himself. Anyhow, Roen had gotten pretty scratched up. Only one cut was bad enough to need sutures, thankfully. The Earth Soferian wasn't sure he could handle it if more than one of his wounds needing stitching.

It was just his luck that the regeneracy wand was out of power and charging (this power shortage was going to be a problem in the coming monsoon months). Riari, Oriole's wife and one of the most experienced medics in the colony, had had to resort to such ancient practices as using a needle and thread to sew the wound shut. Just like that, as if he were some sort of quilt.

"Almost done, Roen," Riari said softly when he grunted yet again in discomfort. The Earth Soferian was trying not to squirm on the bed, but so far he wasn't succeeding.

"Dammit Riari, are you telling me they actually used to do this before a regeneracy wand was invented? You're insane. This is a form of torture, not healing!" he growled, suppressing a moan. Riari didn't answer. Instead, she tied a loop on the suture and clipped it short, ending the painful procedure.

"There. You're done, Roen. Stop being such a baby," she said jokingly and slapped his back, careful to avoid his arm. "I'll bandage it up and you can get out of here." She left the inpatient section of the cave dubbed "The Infirmary", shuffling her pearly white wings as she walked. Roen sighed and leaned back, careful not to jolt his throbbing arm.

Riari hadn't been gone more than a few moments before Kyo and Hadel strode into the room. Roen's first thought upon seeing the broken, bloody Soferians in their arms was horror. And he thought _he'd_ had it bad. What had happened to them? What work in the caves could cause such severe injuries? But then, upon realizing he didn't _recognize_ either of them, he was instantly suspicious. How could he have been around the same Soferians for twenty years and not know all of them? And he was positive he _would _have known these two. Both were young—and pretty.

The Ice Soferian, who looked to be the most badly injured of the pair, had a dangerous, almost evil, beauty. Like she could be kissing you one moment, and stabbing you through the heart the next. The Earth Soferian was softer, more elegant. But not so soft that she didn't look like she could break a few bones—when she was conscious. Roen subconsciously licked his lips. Having been rejected by virtually every of-age female in the colony, it would be refreshing to have some fresh game.

Kyo nodded at Roen in greeting, then unceremoniously dropped the comatose Ice Soferian on the cot nearest him. "Hey, Riari!" he shouted. The Air Soferian appeared barely a few seconds later, a role of bandage in her hands and an irritated look on her face.

"Sheesh, wake the whole colony, why don't you!" she hissed. "Turach is resting in the other cave, if you don't mind." She noticed the injured women on the cot and in Hadel's arms then. Her expression melted into concern. "What happened?" she asked, then turned to Roen and tossed him the bandage. "Here. You're a big boy; bandage yourself."

He caught the soft roll of white material and began to wrap it around his upper arm with his good hand, though he was mainly listening to what Kyo and Hadel had to say. He was just as curious as Riari.

Hadel set his load a bit more gently on the cot neighboring the strange Ice Soferian's. "A ship went down a couple kilometers from here. These two were inside it. We don't know who they are yet." Riari stiffened and looked up from her stooped position over the cots.

"These two left the planet, and now they have the nerve to come _back_?" her tone was incredulous. "Why didn't Oriole just shoot them right there?"

Roen instantly felt sick. That he had entertained the idea of mating with one—or both—of them, even for a few seconds, was disgusting. He fully agreed with Riari; if these two Soferians had returned after fleeing the planet twenty years ago and were expecting a warm welcome, they had another thing coming. They should die like the friends and family they abandoned all those years ago. Why on Sofera was Oriole wasting precious supplies on these two? Especially when supplies were running so low?

Kyo shook his head, as if he disagreed with the leader's decision as well. "I think he wants information. But he said no anesthetic, if that changes anything," he said, watching Riari scurry around the new arrivals. As he said this, she pocketed a hypo that had been hovering inches above the Earth Soferian's arm; no doubt the anesthetic she had just been ordered not to use.

"Alright. You boys can leave; I have it under control. But if you see Skylin, tell her to report to the infirmary. I might need a hand with these two when they wake up," she ordered. The two Soferians nodded and left.

Roen stood, taking that as his cue to leave now that his wound was properly dressed. "I guess I'll be going, then," he said, making his way for the infirmary's exit. He looked back at the two inert forms. "Aren't you at least going to bind them to the cots so they can't get up?" he asked.

Riari stepped back. "Nah. These two won't be waking up for a couple of hours, which'll give Oriole plenty of time to post a guard or two. They'll be fine," she turned to look at him, taking note of his bandaged arm. "I don't want you doing anything to irritate that arm," her sharp, reproachful look told him exactly _what_ he shouldn't be doing, "If you break a stitch, you have to go through this entire process again."

Roen grimaced. "Don't worry. I'll take it easy." he said, and left.

**Alana**: Alana hadn't held out any hopes for an afterlife, so it was a complete surprise when she felt herself surfacing from unconsciousness. Instantly, she was suspicious. Questions came to her mind: was she really dead? How could she possibly have survived? After that crash, it was only logical that she shouldn't be alive. But the closer she came to full awareness, the more she realized she couldn't be dead. There was too much pain. _Far_ too much pain.

Alana grunted and struggled to sit up. Each breath sent needles stabbing into her right side, and her left arm felt as if it had come unhinged from the rest of her body (by far the _least_ of the pain). A distressed moan bubbled from between her lips, but even that little sound made it feel as thought hundreds of razor blades were scratching at the lining of her throat.

Suddenly there was a hand pressing down on her bruised chest, pushing her back into the cot on which she was laying.

"Wha—"

"Shut up and stop squirming, _si'hå_. Oriole doesn't want you so injured that you can't talk," the voice that spoke was female, but unfamiliar. The language was Soferian, oddly enough. Having not spoken her native tongue for over a decade, it took the Ice Soferian a minute to understand the woman. She wondered how the speaker would sound when she wasn't spitting her words between clenched teeth. Her tone made it very clear that she didn't want Alana near her. The Ice Soferian decided to obey the mystery woman, and settled down into the stiff cot. When she was still, her caretaker brought something smooth and round to her lips: a cup. And it was filled with water. Alana drained the glass, and wanted to ask for more, but didn't dare push the woman.

"Where am I? Who are you?" she mumbled, trying hard not to irritate her already burning throat. The water had helped dampen the fire, but embers still burned.

"You're on Sofera, _si'hå_. And you shouldn't have come back," was the icy reply. Alana frowned. _Of __course_ she was on Sofera. But _where_ exactly? And why were there people here? Weren't they all supposed to be dead?

"Who are you?" she asked again. The other woman sighed haughtily.

"Riari."

There were so many questions Alana wanted to ask this "Riari", but didn't dare. She sufficed to respond with an equally curt "Thank you" and closed her sightless eyes, wondering if she could escape to sleep for a while. The answer was "no".

**Aurora**; A few days passed since the twins' timely rescue. Although "rescue" didn't seem like quite the right word for it, because they were, without a doubt, prisoners.

Both Alana and Aurora were treated for their wounds. Thankfully, Soferians had a heightened immune system, allowing them heal at a quicker rate than most humanoids in the galaxy. In the space of three days, the concussion Aurora had sustained—and the nausea that came with it—had lessened considerably, and their dedicated (if coldly unwelcome) nurse only had to clean up her vomit twice.

The third day in bed was beginning to drive Aurora crazy. She was struck with an unnerving sense of deja vu; it was like the SGC infirmary all over again. Except this time, the company was not so pleasant. There was only so much she could take of lying in bed doing absolutely _nothing._ She had spent enough time in a hospital gurney after the Battle for Earth. The Earth Soferian began to wish for something to take place to redeem her from this unending boredom. Little did she know, something _was_ about to take place.


	6. Reality

**Oriole**: The Soferian leader was working on the power storage cells in an effort to find where the energy leakage had originated, when a sharp buzz cut through the air. The sound was so sudden it made him jump and hit his head on the bottom of the cell. A string of Soferian words—most of them profanities—spilled out of the Fire Soferian's mouth. Pulling himself on the hoversled from underneath the storage unit, he ripped his communicator from his hip and thumbed the "answer" button.

"What is it?" Oriole growled irritably, rubbing his head.

"Did I catch you at a bad time?" his wife's voice floated over the other end. Oriole sighed.

"No, you didn't. My communicator just startled me. Why are you calling?" he knew it must have something to do with the twins resting in the infirmary. It wasn't uncommon for Riari to call him at random times during the day, but her tone had that icy quality to it that only appeared when she was around the prisoners.

"Our two guests are well enough for a few questions now, I think," she replied. Oriole grunted.

"Finally," he whispered to himself, then said at normal volume into the comm link, "I'll be down in a few minutes." he snapped the communicator off and stood, then kicked the hoversled out of his way. His head already hurt; he didn't need to trip and knock himself out. Glancing back at the storage cells, Oriole wondered if he should call another colonist up to take care of the repair work. Power was now draining at a rapid rate and they couldn't afford to lose any more, no matter how small the amount. But, thinking he would be back in no time, he decided against it and jogged down to the infirmary.

**Starfire/Oriole**: For the most part, Alana's injuries had healed. The only pain left to remind her of the near-death experience in the starship was a dull ache in her side, where six fractured ribs were healing nicely (or so the nurse called Riari said, but it was hard to tell if she was telling the truth, because almost every comment that came out of her mouth was sarcastic and/or venomous).

But even with her injuries gone, she was forced to remain on "bed rest" next to Aurora. Like her sister, Alana was at the point where she would do almost anything to end the monotony. It didn't matter how terrifying, uncomfortable, or disastrous it was. Just _something_ to stop the boredom.

Alana was reciting this wish over and over in her head when she felt an unfamiliar presence storm into the room. She was instantly on alert and sat up in bed.

"Hello?" It was a stupid thing to say, but Alana wasn't particularly concerned with sounding smart at the moment. She wanted to know what the hell was going on, and why they were prisoners on there own home planet, and why there were Soferians _on_ said homeplanet. Riari had given her precious little information.

"Hello," the reply was hot, acidic, and delivered in such an angry way Alana had to fight back the instinct to respond with an equally hateful comment that would only dig her grave deeper.

"Don't go too easy on them, Oriole," Riari's voice called from the back of the infirmary. "Don't be afraid to force me to keep them hospitalized for a few more days. Or weeks."

Oriole didn't answer Riari. He stepped forward, approaching the sisters slowly, cautiously, like he was afraid they would jump up and attack him. That was a laughable concept. The Soferian stopped a foot from the sisters' cots. When he spoke, his voice was cold and quiet.

"I want to know who you are, and what you are doing here. Starting with you, _si'ehr_." he said, addressing Aurora first.

The Earth Soferian calmly lifted her gaze to meet his. Oriole's golden eyes connected with her own and flared with anger as she remained silent. Something about him seemed familiar, maybe his facial structure, maybe his eyes, maybe the orangey-gold wings that flared from his back. She shook the unnerving feeling of familiarity off. It was probably just because he was a Soferian. Aurora regarded Oriole with caution, rapidly sorting through ideas of what to tell him. She could just imagine:

_Yes, I am Aurora, and this is my twin sister, Alana, who recently escaped a judicial execution for killing an innocent medic. This is following nearly two decades of being apprenticed to a Sith Lord, of course..._

Obviously, _that_ wouldn't work.

"Of course, _si'dok_. I am Aurora. This is my twin sister Alana," _Truth._ "We crash-landed on the planet trying to escape some people that were trying to kill us," _Half-truth. This doesn't include, of course, that I crashed the ship because I didn't know how to fly it..._ "My sister and I haven't had a place to call home for most of our lives—our father took us from Sofera at the start of the Holocaust twenty years ago, when we were only toddlers. Unfortunately, we haven't had the freedom to come home until now," she replied, her tone and expression guarded as she maintained eye contact with Oriole.

He could tell she wasn't telling the whole truth. Her careful tone told him there was much to the sisters' story she hadn't revealed. He didn't stop to pry about what exactly she was keeping from him, though. Only one phrase stuck in his mind from Aurora's summary of her plight.

_The freedom to come home._ Freedom? As if "home" wanted these deserters back! Oriole slapped Aurora hard across the cheek, leaving the beginnings of a grayish silver contusion behind.

"Has it ever crossed your mind that you don't have a place to call home because you _abandoned_ the only home you ever had?" he snarled. "You deserve whatever misery Kiret Luoya has thrown at you. By the time I am through with you two, both you and your sister will be wishing those killers _had_ caught up with you!"

His threat was only partial truth. Oriole wouldn't kill them; he couldn't deny the fact that the Soferian species was on the verge of extinction. No matter what Alana and Aurora had done, they were too valuable to lose. Plus there was something familiar about the twins. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he had the distinct feeling that he had seen them both before.

_Impossible._ But the thought remained.

Knowing that Aurora might not be able to talk for a bit because of the fresh bruise on her cheek, Oriole turned his glare on Alana. She stared back at him with the most unnerving blue eyes, her expression cold. Emotionless. She hadn't even twitched when Aurora had been hit.

"Now it's your turn," he growled. "Talk—and tell me the _truth_. Lying in this colony will get you exactly what your sister got."

"It is just as she said," Alana answered in an inflectionless voice that matched her expression. "We were on the run from killers. We thought the rest of the Soferians were dead, so we assumed we could at least come home to die. Like we should have all those years ago. But waking up to find that there are survivors of the holocaust is—"

"Don't give me that!" Oriole spat. "Kissing up will do you no good here. You don't deserve to die on Sofera. The both of you belong dead on a garbage scow, bound for a planet far away."

He waited for Alana to respond, but she stayed silent this time. Losing patience, he curled his free hand into a fist and punched her in the nose. There was a sharp cracking sound and Alana let out a startled cry, her hands flying up to protect her face from any more blows. Silver blood leaked between her fingers.

From the cot, Alana glared at Oriole. Actually, now that he took notice, it was almost _through_ him. She hissed something in a language that he didn't recognize; it wasn't Basic, and it _certainly_ wasn't Soferian. He ignored her and turned back to Aurora, fist poised to break her nose if the Earth Soferian didn't answer.

Aurora recoiled from Oriole's raised fist, rubbing the cheek he had slapped a moment ago. She glared at the Fire Soferian as well, then sighed and dropped her gaze to her blanket in defeat.

"Alana and I….We were separated for most of our lives. I was…incapacitated, and Alana was trained in the Force. We would've come back to right whatever it is we did wrong, but as Alana said, we didn't have the liberty to do so," Aurora said in a rush, looking at Oriole's fist from the corner of her eye.

Oriole titled his head. He had never heard of "the force". Alana snarled wordlessly when her sister mentioned the noun. Was the force some sort of fighting technique? Or could Aurora be referring to a police force? Why should this matter to him? Why would the sisters want to hide that fact?

"Now that we've answered your question, how about you answer some of ours? We've heard your name, _Oriole,_ but nothing beyond that. Who are you, really? And how in the universe have you survived all these years? How many Soferians are left?" Aurora asked, and though her tone was frosty, there was no hiding the excited light in her eyes that stemmed from the thought that her race wasn't as far gone as she'd thought. Se was looking at Alana, hoping for support from her sister.

From his peripherals, Oriole watched the other twin. One hand still covered her nose, but the blood flow had almost stopped. Silver crusted her fingers. She was no longer glaring at Oriole; instead, her eyes were narrowed at her sister. Instead of anger, though, Oriole saw disappointment in her gaze. She didn't say a word to support Aurora.

"Alana, at least, knows when to keep her mouth shut," he said at last, stepping closer to Aurora. "You are in no position to be asking me _any_ questions. I can do far worse to you than break your nose, and I won't hesitate to do so." Oriole removed the blaster from his hip and lifted his hand, as if he was going to slam the butt of the weapon into her temple. "If you cooperate, I will not crush your skull. Fair enough?"

Another bluff; he wouldn't kill her. Just give her a larger concussion than the one she already had.

"Just shut up, Aurora," Alana said from the cot. "You've already told him enough. He doesn't need to know anything more."

"So much for staying quiet," he growled, pivoting on his foot and delivering the blow meant for Aurora to Alana's head. The force of the attack threw the Ice Soferian from the bed onto the floor. A barely audible moan rose from her crumpled form, but she showed no other signs of life. Oriole pointed the blaster at Aurora, so she was staring down its barrel.

"Are you going to be a good girl now, or do I have to shoot you?" he said evenly. The blaster was on stun. Not that she knew that.

Aurora's eyes widened in fear, but it was soon overwhelmed by the rage that now racked her body.

"Go ahead, then. Kill me. It's not like it'd be worse than what my life has been. I dare you to pull the trigger. _Do your worst, Fire Boy,_" she snarled back, seething in anger. Deep in the recesses of her mind, she knew she was going too far, but it was already done and said. Not to mention that it felt sort of good to insult Oriole.

Oriole shrugged. "Your wish is my command." A bolt of blue light erupted from the barrel of the weapon and slammed into her. Whoops; a stun setting from such close range could kill. Oh well.

Alana twitched on the floor at the sound of the blaster's discharge, turning her head until her blind eyes rested on the Fire Soferian. He gazed back at her.

"Pathetic. If you two were Sofera's future, then perhaps Kiret Luoya saw we _deserved_ to be destroyed," he said, his face full of loathing. "We survived the attack, but our species is endangered. We can't afford to kill you. Though I'm not sure what male would be crazy enough to _mate_ with either of you." He knelt down beside the barely-conscious Alana, his blaster hanging from his hand. "Now I give you a choice: you can either cooperate and salvage whatever honor is left to your name….or you can live like one raised away from home would be expected to live—no better than the savages who killed us all those years ago—and be treated like one."

Alana turned her head away from him. When she spoke, her voice was dull and scratchy. "My sister and I came here to start over. We want to put our past behind us. I can't speak for Aurora, but I hate what I've become. We _have_ returned to restore honor. Not for leaving during the holocaust, because we had no control over where our father took us. Had we been given the choice, we might have stayed. And the galaxy would be much better off.

"But now _you_ have a choice. Treat us like prisoners when we didn't choose our fate, or allow us a chance to live the life our father stole from us."

Oriole shook his head in disgust, not bothering to give her a verbal response. Pinning all the blame on their father, smearing the honor of the dead…Wherever Alana and Aurora had been raised, it was as far from Sofera as one could possibly get. He stood and holstered his blaster. "Riari, they're all yours! I'll be back later. Perhaps they'll feel more like communicating when the reality of their situation hits home." He glared harshly at Alana, but she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes had acquired a far-off look, staring at something that wasn't in this room. He shook his head and left the infirmary. Pitiful.


	7. Indecision

**Oriole**: Oriole made his way from the infirmary through the twisting passageways of the Soferian caves, his head throbbing to the beat of his heart. Another unsuccessful interrogation attempt with the twins. This round hadn't left them both unconscious, but they were seriously beat up. It was infuriating. They thought they had _rights_, for Kiret Luoya's sake! They obviously didn't know how many people in this colony would go out of their way to kill them.

Aurora especially annoyed him. He'd expected Alana to be resistant from the start. She just seemed like the most unlikeable, stubborn person he'd ever met. Aurora, on the other hand, had started out pliable and easy to get information from. That's how it seemed, at least. Neither of them had said a word through his entire interrogation. She had learned from her sister. Oriole was tempted to turn around right then and shoot them both. He'd get no complaints from his wife, who was sick of watching after them. But there was something that prevented him from killing Alana and Aurora**—**he just couldn't put his finger on what it was. The entire situation was so frustrating.

The Fire Soferian, in his aimless wonderings of the caves, finally found himself in the commons of the colony. About two dozen Soferian colonists milled around the space. It was the largest "room" in the whole network of caves that they all called home. The ceiling rose thirty meters above the floor, and at it's widest point it was twenty-five meters across. The area was brightly lit by glow rods painstakingly hung from the highest point of the domed room. At one end of the space was the "Cafe", as residents called it. It was hardly more than three bins on a rack filled with thick rolls of dough that served as the main "staple" of a diet in the colony.

Oriole crossed the room, picked up a roll, and plopped down on one of the stone benches scattered around the space. He took a bite of the bread and swallowed without tasting it, trying to figure out just _what_he should do with the sisters. The Fire Soferian wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there, running circles in his mind, when another colonist collapsed onto the bench beside him. Giving the other a sideways glance, Oriole recognized the tall, skinny frame and shaggy black hair of Roen. 

"Man, I am going to be _so _glad when Riari okays me for regular duty again. I won't be complaining about working in the fields for a very, very long while," he groaned, leaning his head against the cave wall and closing his eyes. Oriole turned back to his roll.

"Oh?" his tone was distant, but Roen didn't seem to notice.

"Yeah. I didn't know being injured meant I would have the most tiring job. I thought I was just supposed to take it easy, but _noooooo_," he lifted his head and glared at Oriole. "You know what job Riari assigned me? So I'm not, and I quote "dead weight in this colony"? She has me _babysitting_. Your daughter. How do you _sleep_at night?"

Oriole felt the corner of his mouth lift into a smile and took another bite. It really was cruel of his wife to put injured colonists on babysitting duty. Shilo, his five-year-old daughter, was such a handful many completely healthy Soferians couldn't deal with her.

"It's just motivation to get better," he said. Roen snorted.

"I think it's cruel and unusual punishment," He suddenly seemed to catch onto Oriole's weariness and gave the Fire Soferian a questioning look. "What is it?" Oriole rolled his eyes.

"Them," He didn't have to say anymore. Roen's eyes darkened; everyone know that "Them" was the twins, and "They" were greatly abhorred by the whole of the colony.

"Why don't you just kill Them already?" the Earth Soferian growled, "They are using up resources that _we_desperately need! With this power shortage, and the monsoons coming up fast, They're going to end up killing us." Oriole nodded thoughtfully, the distant look in his eyes making a comeback.

"You know we can't do that, Roen. Our species is hanging by a thread as it is. We can't just kill two perfectly healthy**—**"

Roen looked horrified by what Oriole was suggesting, even though he himself had entertained that line of thinking at one time. "That is the worst excuse I have ever heard. It doesn't matter how 'perfectly healthy' they are. Sure, it might work if our species was made up of unfeeling robots who didn't care about anything but survival! You have to know that they are no good for...breeding stock. At all. Ask any male. They'd sooner _kill_ Them than _bond_with Them!" he hissed. The colony leader winced. Yeah, he knew that. But it was the only "solid" excuse he could come up with to keep the twins alive. "Just shoot them, dammit!"

"I'm putting them on a work detail," Oriole said, pretending like he hadn't heard a word Roen had said. The Earth Soferian looked at him like he'd suggested opening Sofera to the rest of the galaxy. Surely this wasn't the cautious leader who blew up every ship that entered orbit in case it was one the Imperial agents, returning after twenty years to see if they were successful in eliminating the Soferian race. But Oriole was one-hundred percent serious.

"_Why?_" At last Roen found his voice. The Fire Soferian finished off his roll and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

"I can't explain it, Roen. But I can't kill Them. And I can't just let Them use up all our resources while they are recovering from the infirmary. They've got to do _something_. So we'll give Them the work no one else wants to do," he reasoned. Roen's eyes grew wider.

"You're not going to make them watch Shilo, are you?"

Oriole jerked his head toward the Earth Soferian and fixed him with a glare, close to throttling him, until he recognized the playful gleam in Roen's dark green eyes. Just like the man; easily fired up but always eager to turn a serious conversation into a joke. "Get back to work, Roen." he ordered. The other stood and mock saluted before trotting off to wherever he was scheduled next, leaving Oriole to wonder what exactly he'd be doing by allowing Alana and Aurora outside of the cave complex.

Wishing they hadn't squandered away the ale eight years ago, the colony leader got up and helped himself to another roll.

**Starfire:** Alana lay on her cot, one arm dangling over the side, the other pressing an ice pack to her nose. She was pretty sure Oriole had broken it. Again. Her head was throbbing and her broken ribs were on fire (they, too, had been re-broken), but other than that, she was in relatively good condition. Alana wasn't sure how well Aurora had fared, but it wasn't much better. Probably worse, considering her sister hadn't spoken a word.

Deep down, Alana was proud of Aurora. But she was too annoyed to show any gooshy feelings. Right now all she felt like doing was complaining. Which she did.

"My face hurts. My side hurts. My pride has sustained a mortal injury. I do believe I am going to kill Oriole," she grunted. Her voice sounded strange and nasally because of her broken nose. Damn that stupid, arrogant, son of a ―"

"Sit up." A rough hand forced Alana into a sitting position. Her whole body screamed, and Alana quickly rephrased her previous statement.

"I take it back my last statement. I will kill you first. _Then_I'll murder Oriole. Maybe I'll make him watch you die. It's always more fun to make a person suffer before mercifully ending their life," she said to Riari. The other didn't answer, as usual. But her horrible bedside manner spoke volumes. "You and him are really made for each other. I'm sure that if you two weren't the last Soferians alive, you would have killed each other instead of getting married. Am I right?"

Riari's only response was an unnecessarily harsh tug as she replaced a bandage on Alana's temple.

"Of course, when you get right down to it, you are polar opposites! And opposites attract. Oriole is loud and obnoxious, and you are quiet and sadistic. Is that why you became a medic? You must enjoy causing people pain. We have something in common. OW!"

Alana sensed a wave of satisfaction roll off of Riari as she slapped a fresh ice pack on the Ice Soferian's nose. She walked away without a word.

Sighing loudly, Alana fell back onto her cot and ignored the white-hot pain that flared up in her head and abdomen.

"Y'know, Aurora? After the way we've been treated here, I really don't think being killed back on Coruscant would have been such a _bad thing_," she complained, turning her head to face her sister.

Aurora glared at Alana, even though she knew it didn't really do much good. _"Speak for yourself. I'd much rather die sloooooowly, in pain,"_she thought, sending the sarcastic words over to her sister.

When Oriole had realized that the Earth Soferian was not going to say a word, he'd punched her so hard that it sent her head snapping backward. Now the left side of her face was turning into one massive bruise**—**it was a wonder he hadn't broken her jaw. Talking obviously wasn't an option at this point.

Alana opened her mouth to answer (because, in that petty way of hers, she wanted Riari to hear at least one half of the sister's conversation), but at that moment, the topic of the sister's short conversation waltzed in to the infirmary. His usual aura of anger and self-righteousness had evaporated into an emotion Alana could only label as anxiety, though she was sure it went much deeper than that. 

"Don't we at least get a full twenty-four hours before you return to beat the shit out of us again?" she said bitterly.

**"**Shut up, Alana," Oriole commanded, though his voice sounded more weary than authoritative. "I've got news for you both. Whether you take it as good or bad is up to you. I have decided to put you both on an outdoor work detail."

In the background, Alana heard Riari drop a large tray of something breakable. The sound of shattering glass echoed in the small cavern, but Oriole ignored the commotion.

"You will have a two-day rest period in new quarters that have been assigned for you. Each of you will be accompanied by a guard at all times. After your forty-eight hours is up, you will spend every hour of daylight in the grain fields on the south side of the mountain range. When you are not working, you will be locked up in your respective cells. All meals will be brought to you. If you leave your cell for any reason, there is not one Soferian in this entire complex who will hesitate to shoot you. They will be encouraged to do so. Any questions?"

"Golly gee, did you hear that, Aurora? We have jobs now! Will we be getting business cards?" Alana asked, eyes widening in mock excitement. Oriole's only answer was to step closer and punch her directly in her fractured ribs. The Ice Soferian gasped and she shut up immediately, mostly from her inability to breathe.

"Any other comments?" he asked, turning his attention to Aurora with a full intent to knock her out should she make any smart ass statements like her sister.

Aurora's steely gaze connected with Oriole's as he turned toward her. She raised one eyebrow at him, but said nothing, physically or telepathically. Aurora's meaning was clear: Oriole would have to do more than threaten her to scare her. However, her response gave no reason for Oriole to hit her again. Her facial expression turned into one of smug satisfaction.

Oriole wasn't impressed with Aurora's smug silence. "Have it your way," he grunted. Turning away from the twins, he called out into the corridor.

"Thane, Hadel!" Almost instantly, two rather beefy Soferians entered the infirmary. Oriole nodded towards the sisters. "Show them to their quarters. If they don't cooperate, feel free to use whatever violence necessary to get them there."

Alana, still trying to catch her breath, didn't put up much of a fight when she was jerked off the bed by one of the escorts and dragged out into the hall. And she was too distracted to try to map the caves she was being dragged through.

Aurora, on the other hand, managed to get onto her feet before her escort got to the side of her bed. His hand immediately circled around her upper arm, but she shrugged him off and walked ahead of him. No need to let the large Soferian drag her like a rag doll. That would be painful. And humiliating.

However, Aurora's guard was not so forgiving, and began to repeatedly prod her in the back with his blaster gun. Aurora's eyes narrowed as she seethed, but seeing as a harmful weapon in the hands of a very disgruntled Soferian was pointed in her back, she decided not to retaliate. Not that she had much choice.

Aurora was really beginning to hate Oriole. She had never hated anyone before, not even Soruto. No, the Sith, she feared above anything or anyone else. Other than losing her sister, of course. She did not hate Soruto. But Oriole….He spoke of honor, yet he mistreated and abused two helpless (much to the sisters' displeasure), already injured women. The Fire Soferian refused to listen to them when they told him how they had not chosen to leave Sofera, had not chosen the way their miserable lives had turned out. Aurora could not see how Oriole had even been chosen to lead the handful of Soferians remaining after the genocide that nearly wiped out their race.

Perhaps the remaining Soferians were all extremely aware of their constant danger and extremely untrusting because of it.

That was still not an excuse.

Aurora's guard stopped in front of two doors set close together. He opened one of the doors and pushed Aurora into the small cramped space that was to be her living area. As soon as she was inside the room, the door clanged shut, leaving Aurora in darkness. The Earth Soferian snorted in derision, and began feeling her way around the room. Her hand soon found a somewhat soft, flat, and lumpy object at knee height, and after further investigation, she found that it was a cot. Aurora gratefully laid down on the cot, happy to have somewhere to nurse her injuries in the darkness.

_"So, what do you think of our pleasant accommodations, Alana?"_she thought to her sister.

"_At least we're away from Oriole, that son of bantha_," Alana thought back.

_"Very true,"_Aurora replied thoughtfully. She grinned suddenly, a thought coming to her head. Alana was likely going to get very annoyed with her over the next few days, as Aurora attempted to entertain herself in the long hours they were surely going to spend in these caves.. _"You know, orioles are a type of bird on Earth."_The Earth Soferian sniggered. _"I wonder if he has feathers."_

Obviously, Aurora's exhaustion was making her slaphappy. The twins' situation seemed rather darkly humorous to her, and she soon found herself laughing so hard that tears began running down the sides of her face in salty streams.

"_Get a hold of yourself, Aurora,_" Alana barked back at her sister, not in the mood for any humor, no matter _how_dark it was.

Aurora's laughter fizzled to a stop at Alana's comment. _"Forgive me for attempting to attain at least one tiny bit of joy in my life!"_she replied hotly, suddenly furious at Alana. Why, oh why, did Alana always have to shove her dark moods on her all the time? It wasn't as if she didn't already have enough of her own! Before the Ice Soferian could reply to Aurora's comment, she shoved a mental wall in place to shield her thoughts from her sister, and to stop Alana from being able to say anything. Yes, it was childish of her, but Aurora felt slightly gratified in doing so.

Of course, Aurora wasn't one to hold grudges. A few minutes later, as she began drifting off, she let the wall down. _"Good night, Alana. Sleep well."_With that, she succumbed to much-needed rest.

**Roen:** A lot had happened in the two days Oriole had given the sisters to recover. First off, the energy crisis grew even more dire. The source of the problem had yet to be identified, and in the meantime, thousands of watts were drained every day. All power was regulated to conserve as much as possible. This meant that the lamps that lit the caverns were extinguished and life on Sofera became very primitive. Everyday commodities suddenly became too wasteful of precious energy.

Second, the monsoon preseason had arrived. The days grew shorter, and soft showers soaked the ground at frequent but uneven intervals. The sun rarely peeked through the dark blanket of clouds**—**night and day were often synonymous. Soferian colonists were working round the clock to prepare for the devastating storms that were mere weeks away.

And thirdly, Roen's arm had fully healed. Thank Kiret Luoya for accelerated healing; the man wasn't sure how much longer he could stand watching over Oriole's daughter and the other four children of the colony (Roen had never been much of a kid person). But finally the day arrived when Riari removed the stitches from his arm, freeing Roen to aid in the monsoon season preparations….and a few other things.

Of course, that's when Oriole hit him with the news.

"You want me to _what_?" Roen said, incredulous. The Fire Soferian sighed and dropped his arms from their crossed position over his chest.

"Unfortunately, Roen, you are the only free hand we have at the moment. There is no one else I can afford to assign**—"**

"Oriole, I'm sorry. You know I respect you, but this is crossing a line. Why don't we just _shoot _the prisoners? It would mean two less mouths to feed, two less Soferians to waste energy on. Your reluctance to execute Alana and Aurora is only adding an unnecessary burden to the already overwhelmed colony! We are on the brink of**—"**

"I know, Roen," Oriole interrupted, sounding tired. This last week seemed to have aged him years. "I know all of this. I don't know why, but for some reason I can't kill them. And besides, they could be a help to us. The monsoons are coming early and with our current workforce we won't be able to harvest the fields in time. Has it occurred to you that maybe Kiret Luoya sent us these two for a purpose?"

Roen was not sure how to respond to this. For a moment he just stood before Oriole, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. At last, he found his voice. "Are you suggesting these traitors are a godsend?"

Oriole managed a weary smile and clapped Roen on the shoulder. "You're catching on, comrade. You'll be escorting Alana and Aurora to the unfinished south field. Step to it." And with that, the Fire Soferian hurried off to do whatever business he had scheduled for himself. Roen watched him disappear into the inky blackness of the caves"

You're mad, Oriole…."

* * *

><p><strong>Due to my recent lack of updates, I have decided to jump the ball and upload three chapters this day. The third will be coming shortly. Also, to the readers who wish to see more of SG-1, all I can say is...patience. <strong>


	8. An Unexpected Ally

**Skywalker**: It had been five days since Aurora escaped Courscant with her criminal sister in tow. Five days of head-banging, sleep-depriving, heart-attack inducing, stress. A bulletin had been released for either of the sisters' capture, promising a reward so high that every self-respecting bounty hunter in the galaxy would be scrambling over each other to find the first lead. Troops that the New Republic really couldn't spare had been dispatched to different quadrants all over space. Even the SGC forces where involved in the search as much as they could be in such unfamiliar territory. And still, no sign of the Soferians. It was as though they had vanished into thin air.

This incident had stretched Luke Skywalker's body**—**and his mind**—**to their limits. So far, he was the main link to the renegades and he hadn't slept more than a couple hours since their escape. He was dead tired. There had been no time to meditate, either, which made him far more irritable and easily angered than usual. But then, who on Coruscant wasn't in the same condition? 

Luke could care less about others sharing his exhaustion. The past few days had taken years off of his life and all he wanted was to sit down and turn off his brain. Forget about what was going on in the galaxy, escape from his ever-present migraine, and find peace. He couldn't do that in a crowded control room with military officials seeming to think he was god of the universe (while never fully giving up their control, of course). They were always there, asking his opinion, hounding him for information that he didn't have. It was becoming harder and harder to manage them in a dignified manner, and Luke was starting to see the military personnel in the same light he saw politicians.

He'd needed to get away, and that brought him to where he was now: winding his way through the must unused corridors he could find, keeping his head down and assuming a posture that clearly said, "Leave me alone." Eyes on his boots, the Jedi practiced whatever calming breathing exercise he could extract from the fried recesses of his over-worked brain. Still, it wasn't calm breaths he needed; it was sleep.

Luke walked quickly through the complex and made record time to the more "uninhabited" parts of the huge building. One moment he was staring at the startlingly plush blue carpet of the military wing and the next he was sitting in the nearly deserted cafeteria, head down on the table. Thank goodness no one had time to eat anymore. They were all doing their jobs back in the military wing, where they should be. Where _he_ should be. But again, Luke didn't care. Jedi selflessness had fled within the first thirty-six hours. He wasn't about to leave his comfortable spot in the empty, quiet cafeteria and go back to the swirling hell of the control room, only to be interrogated with the same questions by the same people. Sleep was far more appealing. Though there was always the possibility of someone finding him here, KO'ed on a table….

Luke was asleep before he even finished the thought.

**Mitchell:** Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell paced the length of the small conference room in the Senate building, which was currently occupied by him and the rest of SG-1.

Mitchell was beginning to regret ever having accepted General Landrey's offer of being in charge of this mission. His mind whirled, so much that it would drive him insane if he paused for one second to sit down. His constant motion, however, seemed to lower his stress level. At least he was _doing _something….even if it was only wearing holes through the soles of his army boots.

"….and we certainly can't let them run around the galaxy. Darth Soruto is still out there, and not only do I not want either one of them to be hurt, but they possess valuable information about the base. We can't afford to let them be captured," Colonel Samantha Carter was saying. Dr. Daniel Jackson nodded in agreement.

"You know that they won't come with us willingly if they are found. Aurora is too attached to her sister, and Alana will want to save her own skin," Mitchell responded, still pacing.

"Aurora made a reckless and selfish decision, for which there will be consequences. However, if we do find them, we may be able to negotiate her release from prison**—**only if the Senate is willing to listen to us, of course. I doubt there's anything we can do for Alana, though," Jackson said, a thoughtful expression on his face. A brief span of silence ensued.

"Did Aurora not speak of her home planet often?" Teal'c asked.

"Yes," Carter affirmed.

"Then why has no one checked there yet? It seems like a logical assumption that Aurora would go there for refuge," Teal'c continued.

Mitchell paused in his pacing. Surely they had not overlooked the most obvious hiding place for the twins...

"I could go ask Master Skywalker about this, sir. I'm sure he will know. Though I highly doubt they would overlook the Soferian home planet," Carter said. Mitchell nodded his assent, and Carter stood and left the room. Jackson and Teal'c remained silent, lost in their own thoughts.

After a moment, Mitchell exited as well. "I'm going to see if there's any caffeine in this place," he called over his shoulder at his fellow teammates. Daniel Jackson smiled a small smile nodded.

"See you later, then," the archaeologist replied.

Mitchell left the conference room, shoulders slumped over in exhaustion. Sending Sam to find Skywalker was mostly an act of desperation. There wasn't anything else that he could think of that might help. With a sigh, he trudged onward. Yes, a cup of coffee would be greatly appreciated.

**Madiyah**: A small military council composed of high-ranking New Republic officers was gathered together around a long conference table, discussing what to do about the Soferian twins. Yes, others might have said they were making the whole situation bigger than it needed to be, but Alana was a dangerous enemy that needed to be removed. Otherwise, she might come back when they least expected it, more powerful and deadly than ever. And if she rejoined Soruto, there was no telling the havoc that she could create.

Or so they thought. Madiyah was doubtful, as was Nimrel. Though the Ice Soferian had committed murder yet again, she could not help but think that perhaps getting out from under any type of overwhelming control was a good thing for Alana. Perhaps setting her free from oppression of any kind would let her fully escape from the shadows of her past life. It was no secret that they were dealing with a broken, possibly insane individual. Maybe freedom was the cure.

Argument over some small matter had broken out. Madiyah, unfortunately trapped in the conference room with the officials, zoned out the heated conversation. She sighed inwardly, leaning back against the wall. The days had passed much like this one, with tempers flaring at the slightest provocation. Jacob Carter remained upright, paying attention but remaining silent.

Suddenly, someone knocked at the door, and the room fell silent. Madiyah snapped to attention. A messenger entered.

"Sorry for the disturbance. There's a man out here who claims to know some information regarding the Soferian sisters," the messenger said.

An important-looking man cleared his throat. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he asked, managing to put a haughty tone in his voice to cover his surprise. "Send the newcomer in."

The messenger disappeared, and was soon replaced by a tall figure cloaked in black. The man sauntered into the room, then stood close to the head of the table. His glossy ebony hair hung just above his ice blue eyes and covered the tips of his ears. His pale, angular face radiated with mischief, though there were underlying tones of some great sadness. All in all, the man was quite attractive. Jacob Carter turned his head toward her, noticing Madiyah eying at the newcomer. Madiyah cleared her throat and looked away, flushing scarlet.

Not even the Tok'ra were immune to physical attraction, it seemed. However, Madiyah was hardly the only woman in the room who had been affected by the newcomer.

"Well?" a woman asked, tone a bit miffed at the intrusion. Her cheeks were red in embarrassment**—**an embarrassment that Madiyah thought she now understood.

The man tossed her a winning smile in return. "As the messenger said, I have information that you might have use of." The woman took in a sharp breath, flustered by the young man's attention.

"Out with it, boy," the important-looking man barked, unimpressed. The young man seemed startled, and his eyes flashed with anger, but he recovered quickly. "My name is Dalaeda," he replied smoothly. "As for the information, I can provide you with the location of the Soferian homeworld. A place where the two Soferian sisters will most likely have escaped to, as I'm sure you've already realized. I do believe you are searching for them?"

Stunned silence filled the room. Madiyah leaned forward and stared at Dalaeda intently. How could he have any knowledge of the location of Sofera? From what she had gathered during the past week, Sofera's coordinates had been lost many years ago. If this man could truly provide them with the intel he claimed to have, the twins could soon be found and the negotiations between the Milky Way and the New Republic could continue.

"How is it even possible you know where Sofera is? That information was lost decades ago," the woman from before stuttered, amazed.

Dalaeda grinned, then swept his cloak off of his shoulders. The entire room gaped at him, lost for words.

From his back erupted a pair of ice blue dragon wings.

**Skywalker:** Luke had never been a heavy sleeper. Often he awoke at the slightest noise or disturbance. Sure, sometimes it was useful when on a mission and during dangerous situations, but there were times it just became irritating.

Now was one of those times.

He hadn't been asleep very long when the door to the cafeteria swished open. Luke could tell because his body felt even more exhausted than when he'd first sat down, and his back and shoulders ached from the awkward position he'd been sleeping in. Luke groaned inwardly. How had they found him so quickly? Maybe whoever had just entered the cafeteria wasn't here for him. Maybe if he just remained still, kept his eyes closed, willed himself to blend into the white plastic chair, they wouldn't see him….

"Master Skywalker?" a voice asked, sounding a surprised.

It had been stupid to hope that he would go unnoticed. The Jedi lifted his head and blinked the remnants of sleep from his eyes, trying to focus on the blurry human form staring at him from across the room. Medium height, dark hair, five days' worth of stubble on his chin, and a uniform worn by Earth's representatives allowed Luke to identify the man as Lieutenant Colonel Mitchell.

"Hello, Lieutenant Colonel," he greeted the man, pleased that his tone didn't reflect his exhaustion (though Luke was sure his face betrayed that). The Jedi leaned back in the chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. The Earthling looked amused.

"Boy, is Sam gonna' be annoyed when she can't find you," Mitchell said, a wry**—**albeit, tired**—**smile twisting his lips. "What're you doing here?" he crossed the room and took a seat across the table from Luke.

"I imagine the same reason you're here. I needed a break," Luke answered. Mitchell nodded.

"What I need is a cup of coffee, more than anything. You wouldn't happen to have any here, would you?" Mitchell nodded over to the food replicators lining the far wall of the cafeteria. Luke raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar noun.

"Coffee…?"

Mitchell sighed and waved it off. "I'll take that as a no," he rubbed his eyes but said nothing more. The Jedi preferred the silence, but it was hard enough staying awake as it was and the prolonged quiet wasn't making the task any easier. It was best to keep the man talking until he left and Luke could doze off again.

"You said Samantha Carter was looking for me?"

Mitchell nodded and leaned forward, suddenly engaged. "Yeah. We have an idea as to where the twins might be hiding."

Now Luke leaned forward, his expression interested (or as interested as he could get when he was running on less than half an hour of sleep). "Really?"

The lieutenant colonel shook his head in bemusement. "It's so obvious, I can't believe we overlooked it! Isn't it possible the sisters went back to Sofera?" Luke's interest level crashed, and though he tried not to show it, his shoulders slumped in disappointment.

"Actually, Sofera is the most likely place they'd escape to, but it would be a 'monumental waste of time' to go looking for it when the sisters will 'eventually have to show their faces at a spaceport to get supplies'." Luke said, quoting what he'd heard from one of the New Republic's strategists. Mitchell tilted his head in confusion.

"Look for it? Don't you know where Sofera is?" he wondered. Luke shook his head slowly.

"No. After the holocaust that all but obliterated the Soferian race, the Empire erased all records of Sofera's existence from the HoloNet**—**and that wasn't much to start with. And, since Sofera had never been a part of the Republic and kept to itself most of the time, few people knew such a planet existed in the first place. I have no doubt that is where the sisters are, because they are among a handful of living beings who know where it is.

"Furthermore, learning Sofera's exact location is completely impractical because we wouldn't even know where to begin the search. The Outer Rim is a large expanse and we would have to cover every square inch of it before we ever came close to them. Which is why all we have done so far is put out an APB and sent our military to only Outer Rim systems we know, in hopes that Alana and Aurora will make a mistake and slip up."

Hearing himself say it out loud, Luke realized the New Republic may as well have announced they were giving up the search. The twins were too smart to make such a fatal mistake, and could probably live out the rest of their enviously long lives relatively happy on their homeworld (or at least until the wanted ads disappeared).

Mitchell's expression told Luke he thought so too, meaning the obvious disgust in his eyes was directed as much at the Jedi as it was at the Republic.

"It seems to me that if I had a killer on the loose, I would be using every resource at my disposal to hunt them down. Even more so if that killer was possibly insane and possessed useful information that could be used against me," Mitchell replied, his tone hard but not rude.

The Jedi nodded, agreeing with Mitchell. "Even so, the Republic only has so many resources to deploy to find the twins. We are a relatively new institution. Other ships are needed throughout the galaxy for enforcing regulations and for protection against an all-too-likely attack by Soruto," Luke said.

"It seems like what we really need is an outside source who can provide us with intel," Mitchell said, mind already leaping to consider possible solutions.

"Yes, it certainly would help, though as I've said before, it's highly unlikely that we will find such a source."

Mitchell frowned, considering the Jedi's words. Surely, information concerning the location of Sofera had to be somewhere...

Abruptly, he stood. "Well then," the Lieutenant Colonel said. "I won't waste any more of your time. I'll have to find Sam and let her know I've already talked to you." Mitchell's expression relaxed to something more companionable as he looked down at the Jedi in front of him. "You look like you could use some sleep, mate. If you need somewhere to rest without disturbance, I can set aside a room for you on board the _Odyssey_," he offered with a grin. Before Luke could respond, a voice crackled over the loudspeaker.

"Jedi Master Skywalker, please report to Conference Room Three. Master Skywalker to Conference Room Three," the loudspeaker boomed.

Luke didn't bother to groan this time. It should have been expected that his absence would not go unnoticed. He'd had his break, however brief it may been, and now needed to get back to the monumental task at hand. With a sigh, the Jedi wearily pushed himself away from the table and staggered out of the cafeteria, with a hasty farewell to the Lieutenant Colonel.

The next thing he remembered was stopping before a nondescript door on one of the middle levels of the complex, staring at the white lettering that clearly spelled "Conference Room Three". How he'd gotten there was a mystery, but Luke wasn't at all surprised he couldn't recall his walk to the conference room. In such an exhausted state, it was a wonder he remembered his own name.

He was instantly suspicious when he walked into the room. Many officials of state and military generals and other people in fluffy positions Luke didn't care to name sat around a large dark wood table, along with two of the Milky Way representatives**—**Madiyah, he thought he'd heard her called, as well as Jacob Carter. He'd heard other rumors, that they each had another personality inside their heads, but that was speculation for another time.

All eyes were directed towards the head of the table. Warning flags shot up everywhere in Luke's mind at once when he saw the Soferian male standing there, dark blue wings, scaled hands, pointed ears in all.

All thoughts of sleep and exhaustion fled the Jedi's mind. Looking for answers, he turned to the most decorated man in the room**—**Admiral Biedleman, a beetle-like human male with squinty eyes and a graying military buzzcut. 

"Master Skywalker, this is Dalaeda. He tells us he has information about the whereabouts of the Soferian sisters." Biedleman boomed. Luke narrowed his eyes at Dalaeda, still uneasy. Something wasn't right here. This was all too convenient.

"If you are really Soferian**—**and I'm having doubts that you are**—**why would you betray two of your own kind, the last of your own kind, when one of them faces the death penalty?" he asked the Ice Soferian.

Dalaeda's face lifted into a disbelieving expression. "What do I need to do to prove it to you that I am Soferian?" he asked rhetorically. Casually, he lifted his hand in the direction of a glass of water sitting in front of Biedleman. The water in the glass crystalized into solid ice within seconds.

"Is that evidence enough, or shall I transform for you?" Dalaeda looked down at the conference table, rubbing its decorated edge thoughtfully, almost regretfully, with a long, scaled finger. "I should hate to see what would happen to this table if I attempted to in here…" he murmured, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

Dalaeda took a lengthy pause, waiting for the people in the room to start fidgeting with impatience. The woman who had spoken before opened her mouth angrily, but Dalaeda cut her off. "No matter. I have the information that you need. Is that not enough?" he offered a pleasant smile. "I would like to offer my assistance, because even though Aurora and Alana may be physically among the last of my race, they have mentally ceased to be Soferian. They have no honor, and I would see them punished for their crimes."

Admiral Biedleman nodded his head thoughtfully. "So then, where is the planet?" he asked.

Dalaeda raised one eyebrow. "I didn't say my information came free."

The Jedi couldn't hide his frown. Luke did not like Dalaeda. He didn't trust him in the least, and with just the right technology, anyone could fake being something they really weren't. For all they knew, he could just be a talented Changeling with expensive equipment. But the rest of council seemed to be convinced by the man's facade, and from the looks they were giving the newcomer, they were also prepared to throw any amount of money he asked for in his direction. 

"If it's a business deal you're looking for, go search somewhere else. The bounty we have out is for the successful return of the Starfire twins, dead or otherwise, not for questionable intelligence that might lead us to them," the Jedi said frostily.

Dalaeda narrowed his eyes at Luke, clearly displeased with the turn that the conversation had taken. However, instead of responding directly to Skywalker's statement, Dalaeda turned to address the council.

"Council, I am not here for the bounty on the Starfire twins. I am not looking for a business deal, as Master Skywalker has….suggested. I am offering my help, but in return, I ask that the Starfire twins be handed into my custody immediately after they are found."

The room erupted into chaos as the council members began to protest. Dalaeda snuck a glance over his shoulder at Skywalker, not surprised to find that the Jedi was watching him, his eyes hard. The Ice Soferian quickly looked back at the Council.

Behind him, Master Skywalker's calm voice rose above the rest. "Let us hear Dalaeda's explanation."

The council grew quiet, some of them ashamedly turning to nearby drinks to hide their faces, and some fidgeting uncomfortably. However, the majority turned angry faces toward the Ice Soferian. Dalaeda smiled apologetically.

"Forgive me, I did not word that particularly well," he said smoothly. "On Sofera, we have our own traditional customs that we follow in circumstances such as this. I only ask the right to punish Alana and Aurora Starfire in accordance to our law. I cannot find and capture the sisters on my own. I need your assistance. You do not know the location of their most likely hiding place, and I can provide the knowledge to lead you there. We need each other," Dalaeda paused dramatically to let that sink in. "My requests are these: I will lead you to Sofera, and you will lend me manpower in order to capture the twins. Immediately after they are found, both Aurora and Alana will be handed over to me, to do with as I will." Once again, Dalaeda paused, a movie star smile flashing across his face. "It is likely that I will require some position of authority to complete this mission. I will need the position to give orders to the men I will be put in charge of.

"Do not think that you are being cheated. You will gain the satisfaction of knowing that the two sisters are being punished according to their crimes, and that you will not have to be responsible for them or their actions. I am doing you a favor. I am taking a load off of your shoulders."

His long spiel finished, Dalaeda stepped back. "I will leave you to confer with each other over my offer," he stated authoritatively. Without another word, Dalaeda strode toward the door, smiling pleasantly as he walked past the Jedi and through the entryway.

The Council seemed to be pondering Dalaeda's statement. Luke was seething. Luke _never_seethed. But exhaustion, shadowy figures offering to solve major problems with a wave of their hand, and an idiotic council who was _swallowing _the shadow man's story all added up to make one very annoyed Jedi. It was hard not to let his irritation show.

"Counselors, are you actually considering this man's claims?" he said with a hint of disbelief in his voice. Admiral Biedleman looked at Luke as though he were an idiot.

"Of course we are!" he boomed in his harsh but pompous voice. "Why wouldn't we? We've got no other leads, unless the Force has magically revealed Sofera's coordinates to you." The man's voice turned condescending. A muscle in the Jedi's jaw twitched, but other than that he showed no other sign that the admiral had gotten to him.

"This Dalaeda could easily fabricate his appearance and information," the Jedi answered in a controlled voice. Another official opened his mouth to interrupt, but Luke didn't pause long enough to give the man a chance to object. "And, on the off chance that Dalaeda is what he says he is, we have no guarantee that he will be true to his word of punishing them. They _are_the last of their kind, after all. Agreeing to his terms and handing Alana and Aurora over to him would be foolish!"

Glances were exchanged around the table, and for a moment Luke thought he had gotten through their thick skulls. But his hopes were dashed moments later when Biedleman, the self-appointed leader of the council, answered.

"While your reasoning is logical, Master Jedi, we simply have nothing else to go on. We can promise Dalaeda that we agree to his terms, but I'm quite sure there is enough power in the Republic's military to take Aurora and Alana into custody and send Dalaeda off without them," Turning back to the other members seated around the table, the admiral called for a vote. "All in favor, say 'aye'**—**" A deafening chorus of "ayes!" rang out, and Luke's heart sank further. "**—**and all opposed..."

"Nay!" Luke muttered under his breath, but he already knew he would be the only one against this foolish idea.

**Mitchell:** Evening had fallen on Coruscant. Mitchell leaned back in his chair, regarding the Jedi seated before him somewhat suspiciously, and to be quite honest, with more than a bit of frustration.

"So, what you're telling me, is that the barrel of monkeys you call your council are going to just _trust _this guy?"

Beside him, Daniel inclined his face toward him so that the Jedi couldn't see his expression. "Cam, this will hardly help matters…" he murmured. Mitchell waved him down, and Daniel fell silent. The Jedi ought to know SG-1's frustration. First of all, the council held a meeting pertaining to Aurora and Alana, and yet, they hadn't notified SG-1? Yes, the Tok'ra had been there, but they always had their own agenda. SG-1 should have been there, as closely linked as they were to the twins.

"Second of all, this….this…._council _had decided to blindly trust a _stranger? _Surely they had more sense than that."

"Yes," Luke replied, a tiny bit of Mitchell's frustration mirrored in the Jedi's own face. "They think that we have the advantage, and we could overpower him at any time. However, it is possible that he might escape us, a possibility that the council has dismissed as trivial."

"We can't let Dalaeda get any measure of control over Alana and Aurora!" Carter replied fiercely. "While he may have good intentions, we can't be sure that he's telling the truth."

"I agree," said Teal'c. "However, it seems we have no choice. Dalaeda has the advantage of possessing something we need."

"You are right, Teal'c. With the council backing Dalaeda, there's little I can do. However, I may need your help to keep him under surveillance. I don't trust him," Luke replied, a hint of worry breaking through the Jedi's usually calm demeanor.

Mitchell glanced at his teammates, all of whose faces held the same grim determination. He turned back to Luke.

"We've got your back. Just tell us what you need. And we're going to need to know what's going on. No more excluding us from important meetings, okay?"

Luke inclined his head toward Mitchell.

"You have my word."


End file.
